Death's Love-Child
by universallyfictional23
Summary: A young woman manages to get into the Reaper Dispatch Association. She's in search of someone that she's been told to find. Once she finds them, her entire life is changed and she takes on a new role as a shinigami. (Eventual OCxWilliam Spears and a hint of SebastianxOC...) Rating may change to T later.
1. A Chaotic Introduction

Giana poised herself at the base of the flight of stone steps before her and straightened her hat. She was nervous but excited and extremely relieved to finally be here. This was it. This was the place that she had been searching for over the past four months and she had found it all on her own. After setting her teeth, the young girl gathered her long skirt in her hands and began to climb the stairs.

The massive building that loomed before her was unlike any she had ever seen. Her surroundings were strange as though they were from another world, yet they also seemed oddly familiar. She casually glanced over at a plaque beside the front door, which read in bold, gleaming letters: The Reapers Association. While she wasn't exactly sure what that meant, it didn't really matter. She would find out soon enough.

Everything about the building was far more sleek and pristine than she had ever believed could be possible. All the walls were impossibly white all the way to the ceiling and a strange white light filtered throughout the building even though there weren't enough windows to allow that much illumination.

As she walked through the doors, she began to get the feeling that others were curious about her presence. There were many people in the lobby, mostly young men and a few young women, all working together in perfect harmony. It was a bit of an odd sight to Giana. But as more and more people began to cast curious or perplexed glances her way, she began to worry slightly.

_I hope that I won't be removed from the premises,_ she fervently prayed. _I never thought that I might not be welcome here. Oh well, it's too late now. The only thing to do is to act as though I have every right to be here. It will repress doubt in others._

Straightening her posture, Giana made eye contact with several curious young men and then looked away curtly, her nose in the air. This had the desired effect and everyone got the feeling that this girl knew what she was doing, and so, left her alone.

Making her way over to a desk where a young woman was sitting, Giana spoke in soft, polite tones, getting the woman's attention.

"Excuse me, ma'am," she began.

"Yes? How can I help… you?" The young woman looked up and met her eyes before pausing in mid-sentence slightly, confusion spreading across her face.

The woman had rather piercing eyes, which contained two vibrant shades of green, which gazed at her through her bold glasses.

"I am looking for someone who is employed here," Giana continued, causing even an even more perplexed expression to appear on the woman's face.

"Do you have the name of this person?" The woman asked, extracting a large container of files out from underneath her desk. It was most likely an employment record and her fingers were poised to select the correct file at the mention of a name.

"Yes, I do," the young girl responded. "Sutcliff, Grell Sutcliff. That's his name."

The woman froze and looked up at the girl standing before her in surprise and slight alarm.

"Grell Sutcliff?" The woman asked, looking incredulous.

"Yes." She began to get worried. "Doesn't he work here?"

"Oh, yes," the woman sighed in exasperation as she rubbed a hand over her suddenly tired-looking eyes. "He works here. What kind of business could you possibly have with him?"

Giana was slightly taken aback by this change of attitude. "I'm afraid that's private. But it is very important that I speak with him! Can you tell him that there is someone here to see him?"

"I think he out on a job right now," she stated looking at the girl doubtfully.

"Do you know when he'll be back?" Giana asked, inadvertently wringing her hands and rising up onto her tiptoes.

"No, there's really no way to tell. He might be back in five minutes or three hours and I can't imagine that you'd be willing to wait that-"

"I'll wait!" Giana cut in a bit rudely. The woman flashed her an annoyed look. "I'll be perfectly happy to wait, if you'll just put me somewhere where I won't be in the way. It's terribly important that I see him as soon as possible! I've searched for him for four months!"

"Alright! Alright!" The woman raised her hands in defeat and slumped in her seat with a sigh. "You can wait here for that lunatic to come back!"

Giana felt a bit uneasy when the woman called him a lunatic, but she quickly shook it off and gripped the edge of the desk as she leaned forward.

"Oh! Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"Yeah, yeah," the woman brushed her off in a dismissive manner as she extracted a pen from behind her ear and placed the tip on a piece of paper in front of her. "What is your name just in case you change your mind and decide to leave?"

"Giana, Giana Thompson."

"Can you spell that for me?"

"Certainly, G-I-A-N-A T-H-O-M-P-S-O-N."

"Alright, I'll be sure to have this delivered to Mr. Sutcliff on the event that he returns and you are not here," the woman told the her after she had finished writing.

"Thank you very much. Where would you prefer that I wait?"

"Er…" The woman looked around before standing up and waving down a passing young man. "Hey, Ron! Ronald!"

The young man stopped in his tracks and looked up at the women before taking his hands out of his pockets and walking their way. He had a messy mop of blond hair with black roots and goggle-like glasses over his green eyes.

"What's the scoop, Evangeline?" He asked casually with a playful smile.

Giana looked at Ronald curiously. She had never seen anyone that looked, spoke, or acted quite like him. He noticed her staring up at him with those wide, observant, blue-green orbs of hers and he winked at her while giving her a flirty smile. He watched in amusement as a blush rose in the young girl's cheeks.

"You _know_ I don't like you calling me by my first name," the woman at the desk hissed so venomously that it took Giana by surprise.

_Why was everyone here so rude?_ She wondered.

"Ha," Ronald chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, I keep forgetting that you're such a party pooper." He laughed again as he saw the woman's face turning a bit dark and he quickly tried to smooth things over. "Anyways, what was it that you needed?"

"This is Miss Giana Thompson," she motioned to the girl standing on his left.

"Ah… ~_Hello_ _Miss Thompson_," he grinned, taking in how attractive she was before taking her hand and kissing it. She blushed again. "I'm Ronald Knox. And, by the way, red looks good on you," he stated flirtatiously, brushing a finger over her flushed cheek.

"But I'm not wearing any re- Oh," she paused once she understood his flirtation. "Pleased to meet you Mr. Knox," she gave a small curtsey and a shy smile.

"Well now, what is it that you need?" He asked, looking at Giana's eyes.

"Oh… er… well…" The girl became a bit flustered and she looked to the woman behind the desk beseechingly.

"Ronald, you work on the same floor as Grell Sutcliff, don't you?" She asked.

The man sighed and rubbed the back of his neck again. "Yeah, I do, unfortunately."

"Would you take Miss Thompson up to Mr. Sutcliff's office, please?"

"But… no one's there right now," he stated, slightly confused. He turned to Giana. "Are you going to wait there all alone until he comes back?"

"Yes," the blue-eyed girl responded.

"But… but that could take forever!"

"I'll wait as long as I need to."

"Feh, suit yourself!" He shrugged, walking away. "Follow me then."

"A-Alright," Giana fumbled a bit before following the young man.

The two of them walked through many polished rooms, many of which were filled with objects that utterly befuddled Giana. Everything here seemed to be far advanced from anything she had ever seen. Ronald led her past rows and rows of cubicles and up lots of stairs. Eventually, they made it to a floor where there were nothing but cubicles and several offices in the corners of the room. Ronald started towards one of the enclosed offices, then stopped and looked around. There was virtually no one else on the entire floor.

"What is it?" Giana asked.

With a mischievous grin, he reached down, grabbed her hand, and lifted a finger to his lips as he winked. Then he pulled her towards a bigger office on the other side of the room.

"Mr. Knox," she began warily as he pulled her inside and closed the door behind them. "Is _this_ Grell Sutcliff's office?"

"Well, no," he grinned, rubbing his neck. "Not exactly. But this one has comfier chairs! And look!" He cried out, dashing over to one side of the small room. "A water dispenser!" Taking a small disposable paper cup, he held it out, offering it to her. "Care for some?"

"Not just yet, thank you," she answered politely.

"More for me then," he teased, filling up the small cup.

"So, is this your office then?" She asked sitting down on a plush seat.

"Mine?" He laughed, collapsing down onto the seat next to her. "Naw, not mine. I have a little cubicle out there." He motioned towards the door.

"Then whose office is this?" She asked worriedly. "Are we allowed to be in here?"

"Beautiful, don't worry about it! Trust me! I know my way around!" He assured her.

"Are you sure?" She asked yet again.

"Absolutely," he grinned at her and leaned closer to her over the arm of his seat. "I just wanted to make sure that, if you were going to wait a long time, you had comfy chairs! That and I don't have anything to do right now, so I wanted to have somewhere nice to wait with you."

She gave him a soft, grateful smile. "That's very kind of you, thank you."

"Not at all," he assured her.

Letting her eyes peruse the room casually, Giana took in everything, observing just how neat everything was. She made a mental note to remember to leave the room just as it was when she entered it. Looking up at the desk, she noticed a small name plaque perched near the edge of the desktop. **William T. Spears**, it read.

"Who is 'William T. Spears'?" She asked her companion.

"Ah, he's my… boss… sort of," he shrugged.

"He keeps a very neat office," she mused.

"Yes, that he does. It's neater than Mr. Sutcliff's anyways."

She paused for a moment, biting her lower lip slightly.

"Mr. Knox?"

"Oh gosh, please call me Ronald, or Ron, or Ronny, or whatever," he said with a flirty smile. "Just anything that doesn't start with 'Mr.'!"

"A-Alright, then Ronald?"

"Yes?"

"What is Mr. Sutcliff like?"

He looked at her in shock. "You mean you haven't met him yet?!" She shook her head in response. "Oh gut-wrenching grief," he exclaimed, "then why on earth do you want to meet him so badly?"

"I-I can't tell you… yet. It's personal, I'm sorry. But now you have me worried. What's he like?"

"Er… well," he rubbed the back of his neck in his usual nervous habit. "I wouldn't say he's a _bad_ sort of guy at all. A bit eccentric: definitely. Annoying: sometimes. Absurd: occasionally. But I wouldn't say that he's anyone you should really be worried about," he smiled jokingly, "unless you're on his to-die-lis-"

He stopped in mid-sentence as the door to the office opened and a black haired young woman in a pencil-skirt stood in the doorway, a stack of papers in her hands. Her eyes turned huge at the sight of the two people sitting in the office.

"Uh… hey Madge," Ronald smiled nervously.

"Ronald!" The woman exclaimed, looking jealous. "Who… who is that?!" She pointed to Giana.

"No one!" He stated hastily, earning a surprised look from Giana. "Well, that is, she's sort of a… customer."

"A customer?" Madge asked, enraged. "_A customer_?"

"Yeah!"

"We don't _get_ customer's here," she stated. "We get reapers and trainees, but not customers. Or is she one of _your_ customers?" She asked with distain, obviously indicating something rude.

"No she's not… ugh… well I didn't know what else to call her," he shrugged, sinking into his seat. "But she not _my_ customer!"

"I came to see Mr. Grell Sutcliff about something very important," Giana jumped in to help Ronald, who seemed to be having trouble with Madge.

The other woman turned back to Ronald in shock. "So you brought her in _here_?!" She shouted. "Are you an idiot? Or did you just get lost? You're going to get into such big trouble!"

Giana looked over at Ronald, shocked that he had lied to her, but also worried for him. The last thing she wanted was for him to get into trouble on her account. He looked a bit uncomfortable, but like he was trying to make the best of it.

"But we've got comfy chairs," he shrugged simply.

"William might make you work overtime again!"

He winced slightly, but grinned guiltily in supplication. "Did I mention we have comfy chairs?"

"Yeah, you did," Madge snapped sarcastically. "But do you know why I came in here?"

"Er… 'cause you wanted to sit on the comfy chairs too?" Ronald guessed, pulling for a laugh.

"No! Because Will is on his way up here right now and I hadn't put my filed assignment on his desk yet!"

Ronald turned a bit pale and leapt to his feet. "Crap!"

Giana stood up as well and grabbed Ronald's arm. "I thought you said we wouldn't get in trouble!"

He looked down at her a bit guiltily and rubbed his neck again. "Well, I didn't expect him to be back so soon."

"Who didn't you expect, now?" A smooth, slightly cross sounding voice sounded from behind Madge, who instinctively jumped, then moved out of the person's way.

Giana felt Ronald go tense as she held his arm and her own eyes went wide as she saw the person who had spoken. William T. Spears stood in the doorway of the office… _his_ office. His narrowed green eyes swept over everyone in his workspace sternly from behind his dark, bold-rimmed glasses. He was tall and wore a very clean, very professional-looking black suit. His dark hair was neatly combed into a part and he held a tool in his hand that—oddly enough—bore a strong resemblance to a long pair of hedge trimmers.

He was very handsome and Giana found herself blushing when his cold eyes settled on her. In fact, she might've given a small squeak and tried to duck behind Ronald slightly, but, if she did, it was only for a moment.

"Miss Gentry," Will began turning to Madge slightly. "You are excused."

The young woman gratefully turned to leave. She was stopped in her tracks, however, by the hedge trimmers as they crossed in front of her. William held out an expectant, gloved hand to her, not looking away from Ronald and Giana. Madge Gentry quickly placed her papers in his hand, then left.

Taking another step inside, William looked gravely at Ronald and the girl with him.

"Ronald," he started out calmly. "Would you mind telling me what you were doing in my office with this young woman?"

The young man looked to the side, rubbing his neck. "Well, when you say it like that, it makes it sound awkward," he mumbled.

"I beg your pardon?" William said, stepping forwards again. "I couldn't quite hear you. Did you answer my question?"

Ronald mumbled something under his breath again, causing his well-dressed superior to sigh and look at the ceiling in exasperation. Giana took a deep breath, summoned her courage, and stepped forward.

"If I may, sir," she began respectfully. "Please do not be too cross with Ronald Knox. He was merely keeping me company while I waited."

"Ah, did you make an appointment to see me?" William asked.

"Er, no, sir," she played with her fingers. "Not exactly."

"Then what were you doing waiting in my office, miss?" He asked with a stern look.

Giana opened her mouth slightly to explain what had happened, but she closed it a moment later, prolonging the silence. She didn't want to place blame on Ronald, but she found it very difficult to tell the truth without doing so. Luckily, it was then that Ronald found his voice again and came to her rescue.

"She did not know that it was the wrong office, sir," he took the blame. "I was the one who was supposed to bring her up here to wait for someone else, but your door was open and you were gone and…"

"…And you saw an opportunity," William finished for him with a sigh. "Very well then, although I am not completely taken aback by this, I _am_ surprised that you considered that a wise decision considering your recent 'punishments.' But if you wish to work overtime for another week starting this Wednesday, then who am I to refuse?"

"What?!" The young man exclaimed in agitation. A single, severe look from William was enough to silence him and make him bow his head slightly. "Alright then, fine."

"Good, you are excused now, Mr. Knox."

"But she's—" He began pointing at Giana.

"I will take care of everything from here on out," he cut him off with measured, deliberate words. "You may go now."

Looking a bit deflated, the young man rubbed the back of his neck one last time before tossing a small smile to Giana, then he ducked out the door, closing it behind him.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room for a moment, then William sighed and walked over to his desk, setting down the stack of papers in his hand and lowering himself collectedly into his chair. Giana watched him awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Finally having composed himself, Mr. Spears looked up at the young woman and gestured toward a chair facing him.

"Please, miss," he spoke softly. "Sit."

As she did, she lowered her eyes to the desktop in front of her and kept them there, not wanting to meet the green orbs of the intense man looking at her attentively.

"Sir, I apologize for causing such trouble and disturbing your routine," she said sincerely. "I should've known that this wasn't the correct office. I saw your name here on the desk, but I was too timid to raise my doubts. I'm sorry."

"What's done is done," he stated blandly. "Now, miss, so you don't take up any more of my schedule than necessary, would you tell me your name and your purpose here?"

"M-My name is Giana Thompson," she introduced herself, slightly surprised by his straightforwardness but also very appreciative of it. "And I came here to see a certain Mr. Grell Sutcliff." She gauged his reaction carefully comparing to others' upon hearing his name.

Surprisingly enough, his reaction was minimal. A mere raise of an eyebrow was all she got from him.

"Grell Sutcliff?" He asked with a slightly more incredulous voice than his expression had led her to expect.

"Yes, sir," she replied. "I've been looking for him for several months."

"I see," he responded slowly. Leaning forward on his desk, he stared into her blue-green eyes attentively, inspecting them. His own vibrant green ones narrowed slightly in faint suspicion. "And where, may I inquire, are you from?"

"London, sir," she replied.

"Hmm, I thought as much," he returned, pulling a slight frown. "I didn't expect that you would be a reaper, not with those eyes. Although, it _is_ surprising that you were able to find your way here despite that."

"M-My… eyes?" She asked, her bright eyes in question widening in slight concern and bewilderment. "What's wrong with my eyes?"

He let out a breath and looked to the side for a moment before continuing. "Do you know what reapers are, Miss Thompson?"

"That's the name for the people that work here, isn't it? The reapers of the Reaper's Association?"

"Yes, you are correct. Do you know what our line of work is?" He asked.

"Why, no. No, I don't," she answered.

"I see." He stopped and looked towards the ground for a moment. "Miss, what exactly is your business with Grell Sutcliff?"

"I-I…" She trailed off for a moment, considering not telling him about her business with Grell Sutcliff either, but she had grown tired of that. She gave a sigh and looked back up at him. "You are his superior, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

"Then, I suppose that it would be proper for you to know." Drawing in a deep breath, she prepared herself to tell him. "You see, Mr. Sutcliff is—"

Just then the door to the office flew open and a loud figure appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, WILL~!" The figure shouted, their voice full of flirty sass.

Mr. Spears hung his head and shoulders slightly and rubbed his forehead with gloved fingers.

"Speak of the devil," he sighed.

Giana's eyes became huge as she looked at the startling figure. _This_ was Grell Sutcliff? She eyed the… man from head to foot in bafflement. From all of the groan-worthy reactions to hearing his name mentioned, Giana had prepared herself for an abrasive, obnoxious, loud personality, but this exceeded all of her previous expectations.

If one thing was to be taken from this man's appearance, it was that he loved the color red. From his waist-length, flowing, scarlet hair, to his draping red coat and his passion-crimson shoes, this man was officially the most bizarre, surprising creature she had ever seen.

Grell Sutcliff paraded over towards the desk and flounced a sheet or two of papers down before his superior with a proud smirk plastered on his face, revealing pointed teeth.

"See, Will dear?" The red clad man pushed the papers towards him as he let his voice rise into an exceptionally feminine sounding warble. "I finished half of my assignments from yesterday while I was out!" Throwing back his mane of red hair and looking dramatically at the ceiling, he looked as though he might swoon. "It was ever such hard work! Compliment me! Compliment me!"

Not really responding to his underling's antics, William stood slowly and caused Grell to look over at him curiously, pouting slightly that he hadn't drowned him in praise yet. That was when he noticed Giana's presence. His expression changed from one of pitiful mock lightheadedness to roused interest.

"Oh, why hello there," he greeted her in the attentive voice someone would use if they happened upon a cute puppy. "Will, however did a reaper as grim as you manage to find an adorable thing like her?"

She stared up into the eyes of the man she had come here to see in total shock. Seeing that the young woman was understandably overwhelmed, William sighed and intervened, laying a hand on the scarlet man's shoulder. Looking from Grell Sutcliff to the young woman he spoke slowly and precisely, becoming a stable, calm center to this bizarre situation.

"Grell, this young woman came to see you," William stated. "If I understand her correctly she has been in search of your for several months. Isn't that correct, miss?"

She nodded. "Yes, Mr. Spears, sir. It is."

"You came to see me?!" Mr. Sutcliff exclaimed joyously. "Oh! La! What a gorgeous surprise this is! You being such a cute thing and all, I would never have imagined that you would be a… customer."

"I would not have either," William Spears murmured. As Grell continued to rant, his superior turned to the girl and looked at her levelly. "Well then, Miss Thompson, go on and tell him what it is that appears to be so important."

Grell fell silent and turned towards the young woman, looking at her with curious intent.

Giana opened her mouth to speak, but she suddenly felt hesitant and a bit afraid. The thing she had to say was life-changing and now that she had seen and met with the man for the first time, she was tempted to make up a reason for her presence and simply leave with a curtsy. But she wasn't such a coward that she would simply run away.

She looked up with a blush as Mr. Spears cleared his throat slightly.

"I'm afraid that you may not be able to keep his attention for very long, miss," the man stated honestly. "I suggest that you state what you have to say as efficiently as possible."

"Huh?!" Grell fussed. "Just what does that mean, William?!"

"Grell," the man sighed in response. "Please, pay attention to the young lady."

Taking a quick breath, Giana forced herself to spit out the words she had held in her mouth for so long.

"Mr. Sutcliff," she blurted. "You are my father."

Stunned silence filled the room and both William and Grell were left speechless and slightly disbelieving. Grell was the first person to speak after this shocking news.

"Wh-What?!" He shouted incredulously. "Th-That's not possible! I have no daughter! Ha ha," he laughed nervously, "you silly girl! You must be mistaken!"

"No," she replied calmly. "I know I'm not. You are my father. I am your daughter, Giana Thompson… well, I suppose that's Giana _Sutcliff_ now…"

"No! No! No!" Mr. Sutcliff shouted, panicking slightly. "You have the wrong person!"

"Miss Giana," William began carefully. "Are you sure?"

In a sudden stroke of inspiration as she gazed at the red headed man before her, Giana reached up, extracted her hat pin, and then swiftly removed her hat. This allowed the long thick head of hair, which had been piled on top of her head, hidden by her hat entirely, to fall down to her mid-back in cascades of vibrant scarlet. The two men stared in surprise. The girl's hair color matched her supposed father's perfectly, although it was slightly shorter and a bit more tame.

"Quite sure," she replied firmly, with a slightly saucy air. "I have searched for my birth-father for a long time and I can say that, without a doubt, that I have found him. My mother is gone, dead, and I have no other family. Therefore, Mr. Sutcliff, you are the only one that has the legal right to take care of me."

Staring wide-eyed at the young woman who had suddenly become his daughter, Grell Sutcliff wavered on his feet before giving a weak moan and swooning flat out onto the floor. No one tried to catch him.


	2. A Year and a Half Later

It was a faint beeping sound that awoke Giana. Rolling over in her bed, the young woman moaned and opened her blue and green eyes, looking over at the clock with slight hatred. It read 5:15 AM. With a grunt and a heave, Giana slouched upright, her passion-red hair fell in a tangled disarray around her head and face. Swatting the alarm tiredly, the infernal noise stopped and she sat there in her bed, tangled up in the bed-sheets for a moment, rubbing her eyes.

Then, swinging her long legs over the edge of the bed, she stood up and dragged herself to her bedroom door, forcing herself to wake up. Walking down the hall of the apartment, she came to her father's bedroom door and gave the door a light knock. After no response from inside the room, Giana pushed the door open and walked inside.

She gave a sleepy laugh as she saw her father utterly tangled in his bed sheets and lying in a rather unlikely position. His lengthy red hair was flopped across his face and trailed off the bed, almost brushing against the scarlet carpet. Walking over to his bedside, still rubbing her eyes, she called him softly.

"Dad," she began gently. "You have to get up."

The sleeping man gave nothing but a sleepy murmur in reply.

She sighed.

"Come on, dad," she insisted, slightly louder. "Get up!"

He moaned and shifted slightly.

Giving a soft chuckle, Giana climbed up behind her father on the crimson bed and kneeled on the mattress. Placing her hands on his shoulder, she shook him gently.

"Dad."

"Mmrff…"

"Dad!"

"Mmmmrff…"

"~Daaad," she sang, leaning down to his ear.

"Mmm," he moaned rolling over to look at her slightly. "_What_?"

"You have to get up."

"For death's sake, why?" He asked, closing his green eyes again. "Why would you tear me from the warm embrace of my bed at this ungodly hour?"

"You promised you would get up with me," she reminded him in a scolding tone.

"How about you lay down and cuddle with me instead?" He asked sleepily, snuggling deeper into his blankets. "It would be awfully sweet. And I haven't gotten to spend nearly as much alone-time with my little girl as I would like."

"Ha, good try, dad. But you forget, I need to get ready to go to work."

"_Work_?"

"Yes, work," she said condescendingly. "I start my job at the Shinigami Dispatch Association today, remember? I have to go meet with Mr. Spears and last night you told me that you would come with me."

His eyes popped open. "Go? See Will?"

She smirked and leaned down. "Yep, to go see Will." She kissed his cheek. "Now, come on! Get out of bed!"

After thirty minutes of fighting for a space in front of the bathroom mirror with her father and sharing the flat iron, Giana finished getting ready and prepared to leave. But it was only to be dragged back to the bathroom by her father, who pleaded for her help with his hair. Regretfully leaving a crying shinigami behind, she departed and made for the Dispatch. She shuddered at the thought of being late.

Giana walked through the office building's lobby with poise, despite the excitement welling up inside her. Her brilliant red hair was pulled up into a messy bun and she wore a simple, white, collared shirt with a navy blue pencil skirt. Her father had not been particularly pleased with her choice of attire, but as always, she had managed to pacify him with the promise of a compromise later, which—of course—she had no intention of keeping.

Her scarlet heels clicked on the stone floor; they were the only bit of red her father had been able to persuade her to wear. With her clipboard clutched in hand, she occasionally readjusted her new glasses with pride, her bright eyes shining from behind them.

There was a swarm of butterflies in her stomach and her thoughts kept returning to her hope that she wouldn't blunder on the first day. Nevertheless, she was extremely excited. She had been looking forward to working under Mr. Spears a great deal and, now that her day had come, she just prayed that she would not disappoint him.

"Hey, who's that hot, new reaper graduate?" A familiar, chipper voice piped up from behind her.

She paused only for a moment and only long enough to grin and shake her head as she turned around. An outgoing, blond-and-black-haired reaper was approaching her, his trademark grin on his face.

"Ronald!" She smiled widely with a slightly scolding edge.

"Well, I'll be embalmed," he feigned surprise. "Giana Sutcliff! Is that you?"

"Of course! Who else?"

With a glowing grin, the man embraced her good-naturedly. The new reaper groaned slightly as she was squeezed.

"I just heard that you graduated a few days ago! Congrats, gorgeous!" He congratulated her. "And the frames," he added getting a good look at her reaper's glasses, "not too bad, could be worse. They could be better too, though. They're a little too office friendly. I would've pegged you for a style that was a little more exciting."

"_I_ like them," she stated simply. "They're professional-looking."

"Whatever you say, babe," he shrugged carelessly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I'm afraid I'm going to be late if I stand around," she confessed anxiously.

"No problem, I'll walk with you. We'll be working on the same floor." After several moments of walking, Ronald Knox turned to the young woman beside him. "So, what did you end up choosing for your death scythe? Did you get a weed-whacker, like I suggested?"

She laughed.

"No, Ron. I did not get the weed-whacker. I'm sorry, but it's far too loud and inefficient for my taste."

"Well, then what is more to your taste?"

"A katana."

The blond headed reaper whistled.

"Classy. Did you have to get additional training to get the license?"

"Yes, but I had already opted to take sword handling as an elective, so it wasn't like it was anything more than I planned on doing anyway," she responded.

"Gut-wrenching grief," he breathed. "You're really on top of all this reaper stuff. It's pretty neat considering that you thought you were human until a year and a half ago."

"Yeah," she mused. "Where did last year go, huh?"

Getting on the elevator, Ronald lazed against the opposite side of the small space, while they waited to arrive at their floor.

"So, who's your assigned senpai? Your dad?"

"Ah, no." She chuckled. "He wanted to be, of course, but I didn't think that it would be a good idea for obvious reasons. No, Mr. Spears stepped in and offered to be my senpai."

The man's eyes bugged.

"Mr. Spears _offered?_" He stuttered.

"Yes, what's so strange about that?"

"Mr. Spears _never_ willingly takes on a kohai. He _hates_ being senpai to underlings!"

"Well, I'm not just his kohai. I'm his assistant and secretary," she explained.

"Oh," Ron's expression fell. "That's way less cool."

"Isn't it more work though?" She asked.

The door to the elevator opened and their shared general workspace appeared.

"Hey, doll, I wouldn't know," he shrugged innocently. "Work is an alien concept to me."

"You're hopeless, Ronald," she said with a slightly amused shake of her head.

"Yeah, but cute, right?" His stupid grin appeared as he backpedaled into the workspace, never taking his eyes off of her.

"Sometimes," she teased. "When you're not being a total slob." He pulled a shocked face and she laughed as she shooed him away. "Go on! I've got to report to Mr. Spears!"

"Good luck, gorgeous!" He gave her a two-fingered salute. "Don't make the senpai mad, please!"

With one last smile, she sent him a wave then continued past his cubicle, making a beeline for Mr. Spear's office. She took a tentative glance at a clock as she passed by. She still had two minutes. At last, her superior's office door was in sight, the door label read the senpai's name in pristine, neat letters. It was a bit intimidating, just like the actual man himself.

She paused right in front of the door and considered the hands of the clock again. It would likely be preferable that she be precisely on time on her first day. So, in the two minutes she had, she inspected her appearance again and perfected it. Once she had been put right and her hair tucked and tidied, she had twenty seconds to spare. She readjusted her glasses once more. Synchronized with the ticking of the second hand, she counted down, then opened the door precisely at 6:00 AM.

Upon entering the room, she felt a tremendous shift in atmosphere. William T Spears had redecorated since her first and only visit to his office. All was grey, cool, calm, and tidy. The air was perfectly humidified and the faint smell of cologne permeated the entire room. And once the door was shut, all sounds from outside—the shuffling of employees arriving at their cubicles, the air conditioning, and the slight echo which accompanied all these things—simply ceased. The atmosphere was perfectly suited to accommodate diligent work, without any distractions.

"Miss Sutcliff," the department manager addressed, rising to his feet. Giana's stomach leapt up into her mouth at the sound of his voice. "You're two minutes late."

Her stomach crashed back down like a rock.

_What?_

"Sir?"

"I said you're two minutes late," he repeated himself calmly, the tips of his gloved fingers pressed together.

"Oh. My apologies, sir," she said, wincing. "The clock outside-"

"Is two minutes slow," he informed her shortly. "Please take note of it in the future. Now, please, sit." He motioned to the chair across the desk from her.

Only when she had complied and was settled did he resume his seat. It was a gentlemanly gesture, but it bore a strictly professional air.

Still cursing herself for her first mistake of the day, she had to force herself to look her superior in the eyes, piercing as they were. She clutched her clipboard and personal file tightly, trying to remain as calm in appearance as possible.

"Now, let's get down to business, shall we?" He said, clearing his throat slightly. "I assume you brought your report file?"

"Yes, sir." She promptly extended the file to him.

With a slight adjustment of his glasses, he opened it and wordlessly began to peruse it, his sharp eyes sliding down the page. A single eyebrow jerked upwards as he read, causing Giana to bite her lip in anxiety. She hoped that his surprise was positive.

He turned the page. The young woman began to grow uncomfortable in the silence of his office. Suddenly, his two-toned green eyes widened slightly and his other eyebrow rose to join the first.

"A katana?" He inquired.

"Yes, sir," she responded.

"Why a katana?" He asked. When she paused to consider her answer, he added, "In three words, please."

"Elegant, efficient, practical," she answered, meeting his eyes certainly.

"Practical? Explain."

"Well, I've been told that combat is often an occupational hazard for the Shinigami Dispatch, especially in the London division," she stated. "A katana is my weapon of choice. I merely combined tools."

A slight smile tugged at the corner of the senpai's mouth and took the girl completely by surprise.

"You're getting a bit ahead of yourself," he told her, apparently amused. "You have no need to be concerned with combat yet as you will be working here at the office for the time being. I do, however, appreciate your forethought," he added, returning the file to her.

"You have no more need of this, sir?" She inquired as she accepted her file. She gestured to the multiple pages that had gone unviewed by him.

"No, I search for very specific things, all of which I found in the first two pages."

"And… how did you find those things?" She asked meekly.

"All in surprisingly good order. Your overall grades were laudable, all of your instructors give you excellent behavioral reviews, and your reasoning behind your choice of death scythe is both logical and, as you put it, practical. In other words, you meet my face-value standards. Only time will tell if your actual performance can satisfy me as well."

"I see, sir."

"Now, as my secretary and assistant, you will have quite a few duties which will demand your complete attention and are to be completed with the utmost speed." As he said this, he extracted a stack of papers from a drawer in his desk and handed them to her. "Your main duties will entail filling out the paperwork from completed reaping cases and preparing pre-death case files."

"I understand, sir."

"Good," he responded, standing up and side stepping his desk. She stood as well and followed him to the door. "Because I expect those papers to be returned in a state of perfection, every detail noted, every eventuality considered. Just because you are new on the job doesn't mean that I'm going to accept poor performance from you."

"Of course not, sir."

"Your grades state that you know what you're doing, prove to me that you do."

"Yes, sir."

"Ah, there's no need to address me as 'sir' every time you speak to me, Miss Sutcliff. You may call me Mr. Spears."

"Yes, s.. Mr. Spears."

"Excellent. And Miss Sutcliff," he addressed her as she turned to leave. "Those are just your duties as my kohai." Hearing him call her _kohai_ surprised Giana greatly, considering what Ronald had said earlier concerning her superior's dislike for serving as senpai. "As my personal assistant, you will have other, less regulated duties. The first of which will be to go fetch me some coffee. There is a kiosk in the lobby. Feel perfectly free to get some for yourself, but note that I take mine medium roast, cream, but no sugar."

"Y-yes, Mr. Spears," she nodded, taking mental note of his preference. "I'll just drop off this paperwork at my cubicle, then I'll be on my way."

"Very good," he applauded mildly. "Ah, but do you know where your cubicle is located?"

"Oh," she said dumbly. "No, I'm afraid I don't."

"Hmm, well, ask someone; they'll tell you. I'm afraid I can't be bothered with it at the moment."

For an instant, she pulled a rather irritated face. _What marvelous help you are_, she muttered mentally.

"Alright, I'll be on my-"

"GIIIAAANAAA!" A shrill voice cried out and the girl winced slightly.

A moment later, there was a blur of red, which attached itself to the young woman and caused the papers in her hands to flutter to the ground around her. Both she and William Spears bore the same expression: one of intense and barely controlled frustration.

Grell Sutcliff, the only shinigami who could've thoughtlessly caused such chaos, was currently hugging his daughter tightly, pitiful tears running down his face.

"Giana! You hurt my feelings so when you just left like that! How could you be so cold?!" He exclaimed, pressing his cheek into the side of her face. "Your own dearest, darling, daddy!"

"_Father…_" She moaned.

"Grell." Mr. Spear's suddenly authoritative voice stilled all commotion in the room. "Please detach yourself from my assistant."

Both the Sutcliffs froze and turned to stare at the manager, but each for different reasons. For Giana, a slight excited chill came over her when he had referred to her as _his _assistant. It was only the first day, and yet, already he was a bit possessive for her sake. For Grell, however, it was because he had just been made aware of Mr. Spear's presence.

"Will!" He cried, releasing his daughter. "Good morning! How has my little Giana-bug done so far today?"

"Fairly well," he answered stiffly.

"Isn't she fabulous?!"

"Grell, please, cease your commotion for a moment and help me pick up the papers you caused your daughter to drop."

"Anything for you, Will!" He responded eagerly.

Giana bent down to assist them, but William stopped her.

"No, go on and get my coffee, please, Miss Sutcliff. Your paperwork will be in order by the time you get back."

"Right away, Mr. Spears."

As Giana's heels clicked away, the department manager found his bright but narrow eyes flicking up to watch her leave. She was interesting, and very different from her father. With another adjustment of his glasses, he found himself becoming curious as to how this would turn out.


	3. An Interesting Development

A knock sounded on Mr. Spear's office door in the middle of the afternoon. Moments later, his red-headed assistant stepped inside.

"Is this a good time, Mr. Spears?" She inquired tentatively. A stack of papers was gripped in her hands.

The handsome, stern man sighed and adjusted his glasses. In the week that Giana had been his assistant, she had handled all of her duties well. So well, in fact, that William had decided to give her some of the more difficult case files that morning. Now it seemed that it might've perhaps been too much for her.

_Like father, like daughter, I suppose,_ he thought grimly.

"Well, seeing as how my concentration is already broken, I suppose it is as good a time as any," he responded stiffly, not bothering to get up. "Have you come across an obstacle in your paperwork?"

"Not quite," she answered, setting them down on his desk. "I've finished all the reports."

With a raised eyebrow, he regarded her skeptically.

"That can't be," he stated blandly. "You must have neglected something. Check your work again." He pushed the papers toward her with a gloved hand, obviously irritated that his own work had been interrupted. "I have my own reports to do."

With a slightly affronted expression, she moved the reports back towards her senpai with an almost stubborn confidence.

"No, I'm positive they're correct," she stated boldly. "If you please, check them yourself."

The manager flashed her a sharp look and his eyes seemed to warn her of the dangerous ground she was treading. With another sigh and a rather disappointed expression, he picked up the papers and set his eyes to them.

Then, the most surprising thing in all of Giana's career as a shinigami occurred: Mr. Spears gasped. The stern, un-impressible William T. Spears looked utterly taken aback.

"This… this is…" He almost stuttered as he began to flip through her reports. She anxiously awaited his appraisal. "Are all of them like this? What I mean is, did you complete all of the reports in the same way?"

"Yes," she answered nervously. "Why?"

"These are perfect!" Suddenly, his gaze flew back up to the woman standing before him and his green eyes narrowed accusingly. "Sit," he ordered. She obeyed. "Did you complete these without assistance?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Within your own natural capabilities?"

She was puzzled by this.

"Opposed to what, Mr. Spears?"

"Magic, supernatural assistance, a contracted demon's aid? The single use of any of these things will have you fired from this office, do you understand me?" His voice was adamant and his eyes were far more vicious than Giana had ever seen before.

She nodded her head rapidly.

"I do! And I swear, I haven't used any of those things!" She told him.

The suited man was silent for a moment as he inspected her, his stare still slightly suspicious. Extracting several papers from his own pile, he placed them in front of her and slid her a pencil.

"Show me," he commanded.

With a nervous gulp, the girl pushed her dainty glasses up the ridge of her nose and spread all the papers out before her. Then, her brow furrowing in concentration, she set about her task.

It was a single post-reaping case file. The picture of the deceased depicted a Caucasian male in his late forties, his cheeks covered in scruff, and bruises around his neck. A whiskey bottle in his left hand and a cigarette lay beside his right. He lay on dirty and damp cobblestones.

After her general assessment, she moved to the report sheet and wrote down all the provided information given to her on another paper. She recorded things such as name of the attending reaper, name of the deceased, the name of the place the deceased was found, etc.. Then she proceeded to the more specified part of the report procedure.

DISCRIPTION OF DECEASED: MODERATELY SHORT, BROWN, UNKEPT HAIR, SEVERAL DAY'S GROWTH OF FACIAL HAIR, TWO MISSING TEETH (UPPER LEFT CANINE AND LOWER RIGHT MOLAR), THREE-INCH LONG SCAR ON RIGHT WRIST, AND ONE-INCH LONG SCAR ACROSS RIGHT COLLARBONE.

Studying both the description of the man she had been given and the picture of the deceased thoroughly, she eventually marked the "Verification of Appearance" box as "matched." Under "Suspected Cause of Death", she wrote "strangulation."

Now, there were only a few more things she needed to verify…

All this she did completely unaware of Mr. Spears' intense scrutiny. He watched her very carefully, waiting for any sign that she had been lying about the way her reports were completed. He saw none.

When she finished and returned the finished case file to him, he stood and paced the office, studying her work. His expression was unreadable. It took him several inspections, but finally, he turned back to the girl before him. He looked completely calm, but slightly perplexed. Returning to his seat, he paused. Then he met her eyes again.

"Giana," he used her first name. "I apologize for my initial suspicion towards your work. I see now that your methods are one-hundred-percent authentic." He leaned forward and gazed intensely into her eyes. "The reason for my concern was simply that your work has surpassed my expectations generously." A smile began to grow on the girl's face. "You must understand, it has been years since a graduate has shown such competence. You have excellent intuition and logic and your attention to detail is unmatched by anyone in this branch, excepting mine."

"Really?" She asked, her cheeks growing pink at all this unexpected praise.

"Yes," he responded.

Though his words were flattering and praising, his tone and expression remained quite stern and serious.

"You have great potential, in the management field, at least. It is a relief to finally work with someone who takes nearly as much precision as I when doing their job."

"That is very kind of your, Mr. Spears," she beamed. "You honor me."

"Well then, since your assigned duties are already complete, you may now serve as my assistant in helping me finish these reports as well."

He placed a stack of papers on the desk, which must've stood at least six inches high. Giana lost her chipper mood and composure for a moment as she gaped at it.

"I need to do all those?!" She asked.

"No, _I_ need to have completed all of them by the end of the day. _You_, however, will assist me by doing some yourself," he told her.

"O-oh, I see. How many would you like me to take back to my desk?" She inquired, reaching out to the pile.

"None," he stopped her, placing a restricting hand on her wrist. "You will work where you are. I prefer to keep such important objects close."

She nodded, but wondered at this odd statement. Was he referring to the papers or…? She shook the distraction from her mind.

"Very well, Mr. Spears," she responded. "I'll get started right away then."

As she began working on the top case file, William watched her for a moment, a ghost of a smile hidden in the corner of his mouth. He had made an exciting and completely unexpected discovery in this girl.

Originally, he had become the girl's senpai in the hope that he could break any similarities the girl had to her father's undisciplined character. As it would seem, however, she had done a more than satisfactory job of that herself. Now, he was quite pleased with his choice of underling. She was talented, respectful, an expedient worker, and took her job very seriously. Better yet, he could keep her all to himself. Finally, someone he could work in peace with.


	4. Concerning Mr Spears

The chatter of the lunchroom filled Giana's ears as she relaxed and ate. Ignoring the noises and commotion around her, she reflected on the past few weeks and noted how much her life had changed. She found that she was happy here, at the Shinigami Dispatch, and she accepted each of the new challenges given to her by Mr. Spears eagerly.

Mr. Spears.

Chewing pensively, she considered the relationship between the two of them. It had greatly changed since she had begun her work as his assistant, nearly two weeks ago. To her, two weeks seemed to be insufficient time for a relationship to change so much, though they _did_ see each other for many hours every day—including Saturday and Sunday, as reaper employees only get a three day break every other week; people don't usually get to choose which day they die on, after all, so reapers are always in demand.

The young woman smiled to herself. She felt that Mr. Spears was coming to depend on her more and more and she was proud to be an assistant to the branch manager. At times, the man could be stiff and emotionless, but she could tell that he simply took his duties very seriously. To her, it was a great inspiration, but she couldn't help but think how much stress he must be under all the time. His workload was enormous, she knew first-hand.

The chair across from her being dragged backwards loudly startled her out of her thoughts. A moment later, her friend Ronald had plopped himself into it, his grinning face as cocky as ever.

"Hey, gorgeous!" He greeted. "How's it shakin'?"

"Ronald!" She exclaimed in surprise. "I haven't seen you for nearly two weeks now! Where've you been, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Feh!" He huffed in mock exhaustion. Running a gloved hand through his blond locks, he flashed an irritated expression. "I know! I'm sorry, babe. I wish I could've helped you settle into your new job, but Will gave me a freakin' _graveyard_ of work to do! So that kept me busy for a while."

"I see," she said somberly. "Well, was there at least any excitement on the job?"

"Actually," he began to grin excitedly. "I _did_ have a death evasion."

Her jaw dropped in an unladylike fashion.

"What? Are you serious?"

"Yeah, or at least it could've been. This bloke from Liverpool _did not_ want to go," he stated jovially. "Three… no, _four _near-death experiences in the same day, all similar circumstances! I had to track him down several times before he finally kicked the bucket."

"Goodness graves…" She exclaimed in amazement.

"You said it!"

"What was the cause of death?"

"Oi! That's classified! He was on my case!" He rebuked her with a smirk.

"Oh, come on, Ronald! You can tell me! I might even get to fill out the final report. Please?" She fluttered her eyelashes beggingly.

"Well, alright," he caved. "It was a carriage, plowed right over him."

She looked puzzled.

"And you said he had several other similar near-death experiences…"

"He did! He nearly got hit three other times! I thought my young heart would give out from all the excitement." Here, he paused and took a grape from the woman's lunch box without asking. Giana didn't even scold him. "What about you? How's your job with William the Grim going?"

"It's actually going really well," she answered. "Mr. Spears really isn't as bad as you made him out to be. He's just dedicated."

The blonde-and-black-haired reaper gave her a skeptical look at this.

"Uh huh. Yeah, just wait until he starts pulling the punches and giving you some _real_ work. He's just going easy on you, I guarantee it."

"I don't think so, Ronald," she opposed with certainty. "He's been giving me a lot of work recently."

"Like what?"

"Well, I've been helping him by working in his office, filling out case reports, the unusual ones."

"Mm hmm, that's cute," he stated, not listening as he took another grape. Abruptly, he froze and turned his full attention back on her. "You're working in his office?!"

"Yes," she responded neutrally.

"Where? In one of the comfy chairs?"

She laughed slightly, recalling how she had met the man in front of her.

"No, silly. I work at his desk, across from him. He doesn't want the papers to be taken away from his office or out of sequence."

The young man leaned forward on the table, his eyes never unlocking from hers.

"Are you serious?"

"Quite."

Slowly, his grin began to return, then it widened.

"Does he like you?"

"What?" She gaped at this question.

"_Does he like you_?" He articulated.

"Wh-no! That's absurd, Ron! I've only been working for him for two weeks!"

"Then why are you working in his office, hmm? Why else would he play favorites?"

"Play favorites?!" She exclaimed. Then she began to scold. "Ronald Knox, you're moving way too fast for me and you're being totally unrealistic! This is Mr. Spears we're talking about! He doesn't play favorites, he's too focused on what's _really _important. No, he has me working in his office only when I help him with all the branch filing he has to do. Other than that, I work in my own cubicle. And he doesn't favor me, I'm his kohai, he's _supposed _to pay attention to my progress."

"Has he complemented you at all on your work?" His voice was sly.

"Well…" She blushed lightly. "He said that my work had impressed him." Her blush began to escalate as she continued, "He said I have talent and he wants to make sure it's not wasted. He also says that he likes working with me." Her face nearly matched her hair.

"Oh, man," he said with a smirk. "This is awesome. Do you like him?"

_Like him?_ She considered this.

Since she was an enterprising young woman and was determined to do her best in her new job, romantic interest hadn't even occurred to her. She hadn't even considered it an option. Though, while her senpai was focused on his work, Giana found that she _did_ like looking at him. His features were so sharp, so intent and his narrow eyes were so observant and calculating, she couldn't help but admire him. Also, his poise, how his hair was always perfectly combed, how his suit always flattered his appearance was undeniably enjoyable to the eyes.

"Hello? Shinigami Dispatch to Giana, are you there?" Ronald snapped just a few inches shy of her face, drawing her from her thoughts. "Were you lost in your thoughts about a certain handsome manager?"

"N-no! Don't embarrass me, Ron! I was just thinking about what you asked me. My honest answer is that I just don't know. Yes, he's very good looking, and yes, he's got appeal, but I just started working here. I'm not interested in a relationship yet and, even if I were, would Mr. Spears ever be interested in _me_? Don't just spit out a sarcastic answer," she stopped him as he opened his mouth. "Think about it. Consider his personality. If I tried to show interest in him, he would just see me as a distraction. He'd cut me loose. I respect him far too much to get in the way of his work and I _like_ working for him," she stated pointedly. "So, please, don't spread rumors around. He's probably just protective of me."

"Oh, alright, fine. Be a buzzkill," he answered blandly. Suddenly, his smile returned. "But you're probably right about him being protective though. It would explain why he's been standing in the doorway over there, observing us for the past few minutes."

"What?" She gasped, looking slightly terrified. She turned to look.

Sure enough, there he stood, his eyes narrow and calculating as he nursed a coffee. He eyed Ronald Knox with distaste. Seeing that his presence was now known, however, he put aside his cup and made his way towards the two seated employees.

"Hello, Miss Sutcliff, Mr. Knox," he greeted them coolly.

"'Sup, Will."

Giana didn't trust herself to speak, so she merely turned innocent large eyes up to him.

"Miss Sutcliff," he began, resting one of his hands on the back of her chair. "What time do you have?"

"Er, it's twelve… forty-two," she said sheepishly, just now checking the time.

"What time were you supposed to return to work?" His tone was unnervingly calm.

"Twelve thirty," she admitted.

"Are you kidding me?" Ronald demanded. "Everyone else gets an entire hour off for lunch! And you only give Giana a measly half-hour?"

"We both came to the agreement that a half-hour is all that is necessary. It is all _I _take to eat lunch and Miss Sutcliff came to the conclusion that it would be enough for her as well. Although," he considered the seated woman doubtfully for a moment, "perhaps you would like to revise our agreement, if you truly are unable to eat in that amount of time."

"No!" She stated firmly, rapidly cleaning up her mess and standing at attention before her superior. "No, Mr. Spears, that is not necessary. I'm done. I apologize for being late. I'm ready to return to work now, sir."

"I'm glad to hear it," he said in an approving tone. "Enjoy the remainder of your lunch break, Mr. Knox."

Momentarily placing a hand on the girl's lower back to encourage her along, William walked beside her as they returned to his office, leaving a rather perplexed and cross Ronald behind. He inspected the girl carefully, scrutinizing the slight pink tint on her cheeks with accusing eyes.

"I trust your visit with Mr. Knox was enjoyable?" He tested the waters.

"Hmm? Oh! Yes, very!"

"What did you two speak of?" He asked, sounding strangely considerate.

"Oh, he was just telling me about what he's been doing for the past few weeks. I haven't had a chance to see him since my first day of work here, so he was just catching up on some of the cases he's been working on," she answered, conveniently leaving out the conversation concerning _him_.

If word ever got out that Giana had spoken of her manager that was in any way less than professional, she would personally murder Ronald. She cringed at the thought of William finding out.

In her mind, she pictured Ronald's post-death case file with a slightly morbid amusement:

SUSPECTED CAUSE OF DEATH: Multiple stab wounds and strangulation.

Meanwhile, she did not notice her manager give her one last look and then quirk his mouth in vexed thought. He had unhappily observed the merry conversation between the two reapers from another room. Then, upon coming into the lunchroom a bit late, he had heard his name mentioned.

What had Giana Sutcliff been saying about him?


	5. A Distraction

**(Just a brief William interlude.) :) You are all lovely for reading this! Thank you!**

William surprised himself that night—or early morning rather—when he got back to his apartment. As usual, it had been a long, hard, grueling day and his body ached. His neck was throbbing from built-up tension and his eyes pulsed behind his black frames. But all he thought about was his red-haired assistant.

The girl's help had truly been extraordinarily helpful to him. He had never had an underling whose filing speed as well as precision rivaled his. Up until two weeks ago, he had never had such pleasure in working. Now that Giana worked along side him, it made his load so much easier to bear, seeing those spectacular green and _blue_ eyes across from him…

_No_, he cleared his head.

She was just a wonderful assistant and a talented employee, that was all.

After showering and toweling off, he began to dress in his pajamas, simple, striped pieces of clothing which always enabled him to relax. In mid-buttoning, however, he paused and considered the girl again.

It never ceased to boggle his mind how different she was from her flamboyant father. To think that a worker such as Grell, who had caused him nothing but frustration and countless set-backs for years, was half responsible for the creation of such an attentive, attractive, talented young lady was astonishing. And though Grell had thoroughly worn out the color red for William, he found that he appreciated it far more when it was the natural hair color of his kohai.

He began to consider how superior she was to all the other employees as he lay back in his bed. Even small things, such as her handwriting, the ladylike manner in which she walked while in such high-heeled shoes—Will could hardly imagine himself accomplishing such a feat, and he didn't really want to either— as well as the way she hung on his every word, caused him to find great enjoyment in simply observing her.

Why was he thinking about her so much? He needed to rest, or else he wouldn't have the energy to function to the best of his ability tomorrow. He closed his eyes and tried to block the thought of her from his mind.

_Dark lashes framing those singular eyes… a pink flush across her face…_

This was unacceptable.

He sat up again and stared into blurry blackness (he had taken off his glasses when he had lied down).

William T. Spears was not a stupid man, in fact, he was very astute. Much to his unease, he knew what was happening: he was developing feelings for Giana. It had happened once before with someone else, someone who was now dead and gone, killed on the job. It hadn't been his care for her that had gotten her killed, nothing demented like that. So he did not blame himself, he never did, but he did grieve. Eons had passed since then and now there was Giana and the lovely girl was interfering with his performance of his duties. It was likely that she didn't even notice his attention. She likely wouldn't even notice his affection, if he ever had any to show her. He knew that was one field in which his skills were sorely lacking.

Loneliness had made him that way.

He gritted his teeth and would not allow his thoughts to wander there. Instead he turned his mind toward the fresh memory of Giana's blushing cheeks after lunch. The conversation she had had with Ronald Knox had caused him far more unrest than he would have liked to admit. The only thing which disquieted him more was that his name had been dropped during their discussion.

What had they been talking about? Why do employees normally speak about their superior in hushed tones? He knew the answer to _that_ question.

Dissatisfaction. Complaints. Grumbling.

He had heard it before from others, but from Giana, it concerned him. What could he have done to dissatisfy her? He had performed his duty to the best of his ability and his conscience was clean. Surely, there was nothing negative the girl could have to say against him. But Ronald, on the other hand, had a past of spreading malcontent.

William's brow furrowed. He would have none of it if the young man intended to fill the girl's pretty head with rebellion. The manager decided that he would keep a close eye on the pair for a while to come.

Reconsidering their conversation, he also considered that she might have some warm feelings, or even a deep regard for Mr. Knox. But the thought placed the bitter taste of jealousy in his mouth, so he spat it back out and put the thought from his mind.

No, the best thing to do was to simply enjoy Giana's presence and focus on his work. There was no use dwelling on the thought of obtaining affection he couldn't hope to win. If the girl _did _care for him, she would come to the conclusion on her own and likely would let him know, as women had the tendency to do.

Lying back down, he felt confident in his decision. Work came first. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but glance down at the hand, which had momentarily rested on the girl's back that afternoon. He hadn't been thinking at the time, but now, he would be sure to before he came anywhere near her again.


	6. Further Training

Dry, productive, and civil weeks passed by, in which both Giana and William's interactions were entirely professional, just as planned by both of them. For the assistant, all was well. There was peace and it seemed that Ronald had managed to hold his tongue for once. For the manager, all was hell.

She distracted him to no end and she didn't even realize it, so he couldn't place any blame on her. Even if he could've, however, he wouldn't have. It was becoming painfully obvious to him that he was beginning to favor her over other employees, though he did his best to conceal it. Each workday loomed before him, another twenty-four hours of both great private enjoyment as well as immense frustration. He savored working alongside her, but her presence often distracted him from his work so much, that he was obliged to take frequent breaks in an attempt to regain his focus. Most of the work accomplished in William's office was done by Giana. The case files began to stack up.

Now, a month into Miss Sutcliff's employment, William sat at his desk, his pen gripped tightly between gloved fingers. He held his dark head in his other hand and stared unseeingly at the paper before him. Though he showed no outward sign of distress, his mind was tumultuous. His thoughts were extremely scattered. It was only one-thirty in the afternoon, yet he had already completely lost concentration. The nib of his pen hadn't touched his paper for a solid fifteen minutes, while Giana's was across from him, scratching away. It was infuriating. Obviously, she wasn't nearly as distracted by his presence as he was by hers. That alone irked him.

It was enraging to be so vexed and yet have no one to blame but himself. And for William, who wasn't an expressive person to begin with, having to conceal and repress his unusually strong emotions was proving to be quite difficult. As a result, though he strove not to let it show and was quite restless. For death's sake, just being in the same room as her was beginning to make him sweat through his suit.

He rose quickly from his chair and stripped himself of his suit jacket and loosened his tie. Normally, he would never let another employee see him looking so unprofessional. But he found, much to his surprise, that, just this once, he did not care.

Taking his glass of water with him, he went to the window and gazed blankly beyond it. He was unaware of the concerned eyes resting upon him.

Giana's eyes had risen from her work the moment he had risen from his chair. She regarded the handsome man leaning against the window frame with worry. Then she turned her eyes down to the papers on his side of the desk: hardly three cases finished since lunch and it had been almost an hour.

What was troubling him? He was usually so diligent.

With caution and sympathy, she stood and approached him slightly, leaving generous room between them.

"Mr. Spears, are you alright?" She inquired softly.

There was a heavy, hard to interpret pause.

William could hardly stand it, all the… _emotions_ he was feeling. He wished he could be the blank slate that he had once been. Obviously, however, it was far too late for that now. There was no suppressant for the illness he had.

"You may call me William," he told her.  
Quite frankly, she was surprised.

"Oh, a-alright," she responded stupidly, as she blushed. "Then, William, are you alright?"

He turned to her. It felt good to hear his first name from her lips, but he did not smile. He didn't even smirk. Instead, just for a moment, he allowed his eyes to look tired.

In his core, he felt the urge to tell her about the distracting feelings he was developing for her, but his reserved, non-communicative personality forbade it. He had no idea how to tell her anything he felt, he wasn't even certain that he _should_. He didn't dare call it _love_, but his _fondness_ for her was beginning to get in his way as a reaper. Perhaps continuing to repress it would eventually smother it.

The brilliant green eyes became emotionless once more and turned away from her.

"I'm fine, Miss Sutcliff," he told her, his neutral voice backing his response.

"No you're not," she responded gently without pausing. Stepping closer, she stood beside him at the window and she looked out across the shinigami realm. "You don't have to tell me, but I'd like to help, if I may."

This almost caused him to smile.

How could she possibly help being herself?

Checking himself, he thought pensively before opening his mouth. He wanted to respond to her, but he would _not_ reveal any of his inner thoughts. However, she continued before he could speak.

"Please, William," she said softly. "Tell me if I can do something to help. Is it the work?"

"Y-Yes," he answered, telling the partial truth. "There's so much of it lately, that I feel rather over-wrought."

There was a long thoughtful moment of silence. Then a hesitant but genuine hand rested against his shoulder.

"William, when was the last time you took your time off?"

He fell silent. _When had he? _It had been so long.

As branch manager, he couldn't afford to allow himself days off. He was the glue that held his division together. If he left, no one would get anything done! How could he be expected to be so lax with a clean conscience?

"Can you even remember?" She asked.

He gazed down at his young assistant. She had left her cascades of scarlet down today and they fell halfway down her back like a river of blood. Those spectacular eyes of hers blinking up at him held so much worry. Even as unprofessional as she was being, William still found her quite attractive.

As he stood there, he repressed the urge to reach out and hold her close. He would not sacrifice his ability to function for the risk of letting his infant feelings being made known. No, he didn't dare. She respected him currently for who he was, he loathed the thought of losing that by pressing his feelings upon her.

Lost in his own thoughts, he shook his head and answered her question.

"You shouldn't make things so hard on yourself," she told him. "I understand and have a deep regard for your sense of diligence, but it can be taken to an unhealthy extreme. Everyone needs a break every now and then, a chance to get out of the office can do some good too."

Walking back to his chair, he straightened his tie and donned his coat once more. He _would_ remain professional. He heard her words, however, and he considered them for a moment before a realization hit him. Retaining a calm, collected demeanor, he addressed her again.

"Perhaps you're right, Miss Sutcliff," he noted, adjusting his glasses. "Perhaps I should get out of the office, if nothing else. But that reminds me, have you been out in the field yet?"

"Reaping souls and viewing cinematic records?" She inquired. "No, not since my graduation final."

"I see," he hummed. "Well, we still have ample time. Would you accompany me on several cases? It's been several months myself since I was out in the field, but as your sempai, I think it's nigh time you should have some training." He almost smiled as he saw the excitement wash over the girl's face. Why hadn't he thought of this sooner? Obviously she had been awaiting this for a long time. "Do you need any time to prepare?"

"Only a few minutes to alter my wardrobe into something a bit more functional, sir!" She stated excitedly.

"Excellent, when you're finished, meet me by the front desk with your scythe. I will have several cases ready for us to tend to."

"Yes, sir!" She gave him a salute in her giddiness as she left.

He quirked his mouth at this act, unsure whether to tempted to chuckle or scowl. It was obvious that she had been spending far too much time with Ronald Knox, as it was a action that the man often did himself.

Nevertheless, as she exited his office, William put away all the unfinished files with a sigh of relief. He was glad that he had thought of this. In going out onto the field with his kohai, he would both be able to work alongside her without as much distraction-or so he hoped-and she would also learn more of her role as a shinigami. He was eager to evaluate her skills at hands-on reaping. After all, she may be an excellent analyst and case worker, but the actual reaping was another set of skills entirely, which had only ever been exercised once for her final exam.

Yes, he would take particular interest on her skills as an active reaper and he felt that he could be entirely proper in taking pride to train her.


	7. Reaping

(A/N: This chapter was written despite aches, pains, and a 101.8 degree fever. So be grateful! ;) )

Giana's heels didn't click on the sidewalk as she walked beside her superior and her clipboard was long gone. Instead, her slim katana blade hung at her waist and solid knee-high boots adorned her feet and legs.

She had met William in the lobby, where he had been waiting for her, several assignments in hand. As excited as she was, she made certain that she remained outwardly collected in William's presence. She would hate to disappoint him.

"So where is our first case?" She inquired, keeping pace with him.

"In an alley just off of Bridle Lane," he answered, eyes forward.

"Why do people always seem to die in alleys?" She muttered.

"Indeed, they're popular death sites," he responded. They walked on for a few moments before he looked her over briefly, taking in her appearance. Needless to say, he approved.

Much to his embarrassment, she noticed his gaze.

"What is it?" She inquired.

"Nothing," he promptly lied, snapping his eyes frontwards again. "That is, how are your nerves?"

"I'm nervous and rather excited, but fairly calm, I think," she answered honestly.

William hadn't planned past his spontaneous cover question, so he merely nodded in response to this. He did not wish to make a fool out of himself by answering her with a broken, half-mumbled sentence, so he kept his mouth shut.

"I..." She continued a bit more haltingly. She adjusted her glasses. "I'm eager to please..." _You_, she finished internally, then winced. She was glad that she had managed to clip her sentence. "I want to prove that I can do my job efficiently and thoroughly," she added.

"I have nothing but the greatest respect for that," William lauded her, his tone even. Silence then ensued again. After several more blocks, however, William finally had something more to say. "Here we are."

The two reapers entered the dank alleyway and automatically headed for their position in the shadows. Giana wrinkled her nose sightly at the putrescence filling the space.

"Charming," she muttered blandly.

"An occupational hazard," was William's grim response.

"Yes, but to die in a place like this... how dreadful."

"Stay focused, Miss Sutcliff."

"Of course. My apologies, Mr. Spears."

Retreating into a shadowed area so that they were well hidden, William looked down at the girl in front of him. The space they concealed themselves in was quite small and they were in close proximity out of necessity. He had never been this close to her before. He could smell the scent of the shampoo she used in her hair: eucalyptus. Growing a bit uncomfortable, he began to think that perhaps this had not been a better option than staying at the office.

Suddenly, she turned around to look up at him and gave him a bit of a start.

"What's the procedure when the person arrives?" She asked.

"Ah." He had given some thought to this while he had briefly waited for her in the lobby. "When they arrive, I want you to take complete charge of this case, from start to finish."

"E-entirely?" She stuttered.

"Yes, is there a problem?"

She gulped. It had been nearly two months since she had reaped and she had only ever done it the once. Fear began to fill her. What if she failed in front of William?

"I...I haven't done this but once, and it was a while ago," she admitted.

"Then consider this a test of your memory," he told her, suddenly seeming a bit cold. "Do your best. I'm confident that it will be satisfactory," he added to soften his message.

"A-Alright," she assented, turning outwards once again.

As she turned her back to him and waited for their soon-to-be-deceased, her long cascades of red hung before him invitingly. Unthinkingly, his gloved fingers drifted towards them to caress them, but he felt an odd swell in his lower stomach and quickly turned his head away, withdrawing his hand.

_What was wrong with him?!_

He had to focus.

"Here he comes," he heard her breathe.

Sure enough, along came their target, shambling down the alley and stinking drunk. They didn't even have to put forth any effort when he stumbled, fell, and cracked open his head on the corner of a crate. Blood gushed, his eyes floated back into his skull, and Giana stepped out into the open at the perfect moment. Just as she neared him, his cinematic record unfurled skyward and began to display the moments of his utterly unremarkable life.

The young woman's eyes narrowed as she observed how the man had abandoned his wife and child in favor of a tall glass of beer over and over again. Eventually, they had left him, leaving him to sink further into his swamp of inebriation.

She glanced down at the semi-conscious man below her, his eyes rolling. This man was not of note, he would die and meet his judgement. Suddenly, his eyes found her in their pain and drunken stupor and a sweat drenched, trembling hand was reached out to her. Her eyes narrowed again.

The sight was pitiful. But she decided to test him once more before her final decision. Crouching down beside the dying man, she picked up the bottle he had dropped as he fell and locked eyes with him.

"Look at me," she commanded firmly. Though a bit frenzied, he complied. She then extended both the bottle and her own hand. "Choose which one you want."

After a moment of anguished gasping, the alcoholic remained loyal to his mistress and grasped the bottle. With a disappointed sigh, Giana stood, drew her blade and swiftly cleaved the cinematic reel coming from the man's chest. Then he died, his eyes still open and his bottle still in hand.

Taking out her report sheet, she filled out the basic information and turned around, suddenly remembering that William was still there.

He had watched the execution-no pun intended-of her duty with interest and found himself rather puzzled at her brief exchange with him. Coming out of his shadowy spot, he approached her.

"Well done," he said mildly. "But I am curious, what was your purpose for that final display?"

As she joined him in walking to their next destination, she kept a somber and grave air about her.

"Habit is among the hardest human vice to break," she stated. "If he had managed to do so, he might have had some potential."

"And you would've let him live because he refused an inanimate object that would've been of no use to him at the moment? Because he diverged from his vice out of desperation?" He asked, bewildered. He hadn't taken her for the "angel of mercy" type and he found he was greatly disappointed.

"No," she surprised him with her indifferent tone. "But I wouldn't be so cruel as to deny him the chance to lessen his own judgment. We are shinigami, William. We do not pass judgment on people's souls, only God does, this I know. We merely allow them to go to their judgment. That is the most important role of the reaper. But there are no rules against giving humans a chance to repent just before death. If they fail the test, they will be instantly cut off from the land of the living."

William turned and looked at her with a reevaluating and slightly pleased gaze.  
"I see," he mused. Then he changed subjects. "Well, your execution of that case was nearly perfect. I say we move on to our next target."  
"Thank you, _senpai_. So, where's our next assignment?"  
"Just follow me," he told her.  
"Gladly, William," she whispered softly.


	8. Separation

Their reaping mission together had been a pleasant respite for William's conscience. While he was reaping with the object of his distractions, he wasn't neglecting his paperwork. But he could only reap for so long before his desk-duties began to stack to the ceiling. After a week of collecting souls, there was a staggering amount of paperwork for him to complete. And still he had trouble focusing while at his office.

Will was a sorry sight as he slouched at his desk. His face was grim and his eyes were shadowed with lack of sleep. Every stroke of his pen seemed to weigh a thousand pounds and was tortuously slow.

He was no longer alone in his distracted state of mind, however. Giana now sat across from him, quite uncomfortable. Even her work felt far more laborious than usual, but that was because her manager's obviously distressed state was tugging at her every thought. She was genuinely worried for him.

A week ago, she had thought that his lapse of concentration was tied to his over-diligence and that, to collect his scattered thoughts, he needed to do something different. She had hoped that their past week of reaping would have cured him of his restlessness, but it would appear that he had only gotten worse.

She stole a glance up at his strained face. There was something that was bothering him and he didn't know how to resolve it. Someone needed to give him an encouraging push.

With an unapologetic rasp of her chair, she stood up abruptly, drawing the man's green gaze. The first thing she did was approach the windows and pull the blinds open, allowing waning sunlight to illuminate the small workspace. Then she opened one of the windows partially and breathed in the fresh air.

Then she turned, locked eyes with her superior, and walked towards him. He almost looked numb upon her approach. The red-haired assistant pushed his unfinished tower of papers away from him and gingerly plucked the pen from his hands. Then, she placed her chair beside his and sat down.

There was a good long pause as the two of them sat in silence, Giana gazing intently at him and Will looking vaguely like a scolded child as his eyes were cast down.

"Well?" She asked expectantly. "What's wrong, William?" His eyes drifted up to meet hers. "Just say it."

"Nothing is wrong, Miss Sutcliff," he lied, picking up his pen once again.

"No," she disagreed and admonished at once. Snatching the pen from his hand once again, she placed it out of his reach and leaned forward, her eyes now showing her concern. "William Spears," her tone was almost motherly, "you can't concentrate. You've only verified _twelve_ reports in the last three hours. Something is obviously on your mind." She gave a small smile hoping to lighten his mood. "Even my _father_ would see that something's troubling you and he barely notices anything." There was a lengthy awkward silence as she waited for him to confide in her, but his lips were sealed for the moment. She gave a sigh, "William, problems never go away until you face them. I can't force you to do anything, but please, it if will make a difference, tell me."

His gaze reconnected with hers and seemed to speak something very plainly, if not reluctantly. She understood its meaning at once.

"It has to do with me, doesn't it?" She inquired.

He nodded slowly and began to reassume his confident demeanor.

"Miss Sutcliff..." He began and then winced before correcting himself, "Giana, lately, I've been very distracted by your... presence in this office."

"Distracted?"

"Yes," he answered. For a moment, he briefly considered telling her the true reason behind his distracted mind, but he banished that thought almost instantly. "I do not mean to offend you, Giana, but the presence of someone else occupying space at my desk is simply..." Here his imagination ran out.

"Would you rather I move to a vacant desk in the office?" The assistant inquired kindly after a moment.

An adamant "no" leaped into his mouth, but he restrained himself.

"It is possible... That it might... Help," he responded very reluctantly.

He didn't wish for her to leave, but the thought of revealing his true emotions to her by insisting that she stay by his side terrified him.

"Very well," she nodded stiffly, a bit let down by the change in her situation. Then the smile returned to her face and she extended the pen she had deprived him of. "If it will help you, then I'll do it immediately."

He accepted the pen and savored the millisecond that their fingers touched.

"Thank you, Giana. That's very professional of you."

"Well, I _did_ learn from the best... Senpai," she gave a little light smile. He almost blushed. "Just let me move my assignments into my cubicle and you'll have your office to yourself again in no time!"

As she gathered up her papers and made her first trip out the door, William put his head in his hands.

He hadn't gotten any work done while she had been with him, but how was he supposed to cope without her?

Reminding himself that she was simply in another office space and not dead, he gathered himself and set himself back again to his grueling workload.


	9. Concerning Love and Mr Spears

**(The smallest, shortest little  
****derp of a chapter ahead! Btw, if you're still reading this after all this time, I think you're just gorgeous! =3 )**

She wasn't _completely_ oblivious. William's words had been simple and business-like when he had told her that her presence was disruptive of his work, but his eyes... Those wonderful eyes had spoken volumes of hesitancy, doubt, and regret. And Giana suspected. Yes, she suspected that he had feelings for her. But the painful thing was that it changed nothing until William chose to openly reveal those feelings to her. Until then, she would remain his loyal and hardworking assistant.

This new realization was causing her to search emotions. Because if _she_ had feelings for her superior, then it changed everything. True, he was a very handsome man, with that stoic face of his and the fine figure he cut in a suit. Nevertheless, she refused to allow herself to be so shallow as to base all her opinion-or possible affection-of him on his attractiveness. After all, there was more to him, such as his dedication to his work, his level-headedness, and his desire to do his best.

While Giana would agree that he could stand to relax every now and then, there wasn't a single thing she could hold against his character. He may have been strict, but he was rarely impatient. He may have been blunt, but he was never unkind. Yes, William T. Spears was a good man.

But did Giana's heart foster love for him? She couldn't say. She certainly held him in warm regard and thought of him fondly, but love was a big word. It was an intimidating thought. Though, upon deeper excavation, she found that she genuinely hoped that she loved William. If a man ever needed love, it was him.


	10. Curse the Conglomerate!

As a foreign pair of feet walked the halls of the fourth floor of the Shinigami Dispatch (LD), the bespectacled heads of reapers poked out from their cubicles and watched in awe. Even Giana, who was clueless as to the identity of the stranger, stared in curiosity. In her three months of working at the dispatch, she had never seen this person before.

The moment the besuited figure boldly entered William's office and shut the door, the room was filled with whispers. Even more curious, Giana peeked around the wall of her cubicle to speak to Ronald, who now worked-or more often, _lazed_-just next to her.

"Ronald," she got his attention. "Who was that man?"

The blond shinigami turned to her slowly, his eyes still drawn to the closed office door.

"Oh man," he breathed, putting a hand to his head. "That was Sir Hugh W. Reid."

"Who's he?"

"He's one of the highest ranking officials in the Shinigami Conglomerate. When someone like him shows up, something big's gotta be happening."

"Like what?"

"Well," he began, his tone indicated that he was preparing to tell a Dispatch horror story of sorts. "The last time he came to the London division, it was because a reaper had been neglecting his soul-reaping duties, leaving souls to wander as ghosts. Apparently, this reaper had received several severe warnings concerning his misconduct as well as multiple punishments and after he received his final warning, he seemed to behave. But a month later, it was discovered that he had been stealing the soulless bodies of those he reaped and performing horrific experiments on them."

"Oh! How horrible!"

"Yeah. The Conglomerate eradicated him as soon as it was discovered. Apparently they only sent one man to deal with him, Sir Hugh Reid."

The red-haired shinigami turned large and worried eyes towards her boss' office.

"Why on earth would he be in there talking to William then? I hope nothing's wrong," she whispered in distress.

"Oh, worried about your man, hmm?" The man teased. "Maybe he let a few case files slip. Ah, finally! The big man himself is human like the rest of us!"

"Ron! This serious! He could be in trouble," she scolded, never removing her eyes from the door.

"Whoa, don't be so serious, babe. I was just kidding. I mean, this is Will Spears we're talking about, Ever-Punctual-and-Strict-William T. Spears and the 'T' stands for 'tyrant'. When have you ever known him to fall behind in his work?"

The girl bit her lip in worry, thinking of all the work William had let pile up while they had taken a break from the desk-work. Desperately, she prayed that William didn't get reprimanded because of the distraction she had been.

All the whispers in the office hushed a moment later when the door reopened and Sir Reid stepped out. With a icy glare that could've replaced anyone's death scythe, he met all of the reapers' gazes.

"Well? Don't you all have _work_ to do?" He demanded in a resonant voice.

Everyone spun back to their desks and put their pens to their papers, including Giana. Like everyone else, she made pretense of working furiously. Then Sir Reid left and she dropped the act. Her concerned gaze flew toward William's office. She contemplated going to him, but she didn't want to seem unprofessional.

Suddenly and unbidden, Ronald's smirking, knowing face appeared from around the cubicle.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Go in and talk to him." He eyed her hesitant face with exasperation. "For death's sake, if you're not going to make a move, then your relationship isn't going to go very _far_, is it? I mean, it's not like _William_ is gonna take the initiative."

Half holding back a laugh, half scowling, Giana rose from her desk. As she passed the cheeky young shinigami, she gave him a solid swat on the head with her clipboard. As she neared William's office however, the smile fled her face in favor of a more somber expression.

She knocked lightly, then entered.

"William?"

He composed himself quickly at the sound of her voice, but Giana had seen the way he had been holding his head in his hands, his back slouched dejectedly.

"Giana." His eyes and voice were soft as he looked at her.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, closing the door.

"N-no," he responded, clearing his throat.

She sat in the chair opposite him at the desk, which-up until a week ago-had been her usual place.

"You seem distressed," she insisted, her eyes gleaming with anxiety. "What is it? What did Sir Reid come here for?"

With a ragged swallow, he tore his eyes away from hers. He removed his handkerchief from his breast pocket and removed his glasses to clean them; anything to avoid her gaze. This way, he couldn't see her at all.

"I'm afraid the Conglomerate has noticed the slowed pace in my work," he admitted, still cleaning his lenses. "It is unacceptable for someone of my station to falter in my diligence. If I fail, this division fails also."

The girl gripped her hands together, feeling nauseous with bedevilment.

"What did he say?" She whispered.

Spectacles in their place, he could see once more, but kept his green eyes cast to one side.

"Something most troubling indeed," he muttered. "I must have all of my due reports finished and delivered to the Conglomerate in two days, which I'm afraid, might be quite impossible." He stood and walked towards the window, not wanting to show his distress. "If I fail to do so, I will lose my position as branch executive manager and be demoted."

The chair clamored as she stood up abruptly.

"No!" She exclaimed. "That's so unjust! It's not even your fault!"

He turned to her slowly, a confused expression on his face.

"What do you mean, Giana?" He said softly. "Of course it's my fault."

"No, it's mine!" She insisted, her eyes misting slightly. "You said yourself that I've been distracting you! I'm the one at fault!" His eyes widened and softened a bit. He opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him. "No, please don't try to make me feel better. We both know that my presence has been disruptive to your work."

"Giana, calm down," he told her. "It's not your fault. I assure you, the blame is entirely on me." Once again, his eyes seemed to speak more than his words. "I've been given a chance to redeem myself and if I fail, I must accept my discipline with dignity."

"No, you won't lose your place! You don't deserve that!"

"I _deserve_ what my efforts have _gained_ me, Giana, and if I've proven myself unable to maintain my position because of... A slight distraction, then I don't deserve the rank of manager."

"But you're an entirely competent manager! You _have_ been for years! And I can't believe that the Conglomerate doesn't take that into account! I can't believe that they'd be so ungrateful that they'd ignore your perfect performance in the past. Please, share your work load with me. You _don't_ deserve this and I want to make sure that you keep your position!"

William stared, stunned, at her for several moments. He had never seen her so adamant about anything before. It had thoroughly surprised him. There were tears in her eyes and his stomach did a flip. She truly thought that this was her fault. Nevertheless, he couldn't give in.

"I-I can't allow that, Miss Sutcliff. It would be..."

"I'll only work as your assistant, William. I won't work under anyone else."

She swore she saw a light blush leak into his face.

After a moment, his shocked expression faded and he smiled very slightly. Just for an instant, his eyes betrayed his true fondness for her.

"You're so persistent," he murmured. "In that case, you have a right to maintain your own position. Very well, you may help me with my work," he agreed finally.

The girl smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, William. I'll be sure not to let you down! I'll just finish the few things I have left, then I'll come help you!"

Then she left and the man sat down at his desk, simply staring after her. His face felt mysteriously warm and he wondered whether the air-conditioning temperature had been altered.

As he thought over what she had said, he felt a strange lightness enter his chest.

_She only wishes to work for me_, he mused.

But did that indicate that she had an attraction to him? Could he dare to have a little hope?


	11. Welcome and Unwelcome interruptions

The next day was laborious. Though Giana didn't at all regret her choice to help her manager, the amount of work expected of him was staggering. There was easily a week's worth of papers, executive records, and conduct files. The red-haired woman both cringed and blushed at the thought of how distracted William must've been to fall so far behind in his work. She knew something would have to be done in the near future if his mindset didn't change. She would _not_ get him into any more trouble.

So, the work was divided between the two of them. The executive files and employee conduct reports and such were tended to by William, while the case files were given to Giana. Fortunately, it came out about even because there were far more case files than anything else. _Unfortunately,_ the vast quantity of it all made for extremely slow progress. There was no time for even an instant of distraction for either of them.

So, load after load, stack after stack, the assistant dedicated herself to taking each rotation of the work from William's office and back to her desk to complete.

For William, it was a furious test of his focus and diligence. The only moment in the day when he allowed himself to lapse in concentration was to give the girl a small grateful smile when she returned time and time again to return the completed work she had been given and to accept more. Then he refocused his attention completely on the task before him.

It was a dizzying mental marathon for both of them.

By the end of the day, they had finished just less than half of the work assigned to them. The girl went home utterly exhausted and dreamt of being buried under a mountain of papers. The man went home and dreamed of the girl.

The odds weren't in their favor the next day. Now, they were rushed for time, had more work to complete, and were still weary from the previous day. There was no way for them to be finished before the work day was over. So, there was only one choice: overtime.

If the previous day had been tedious, this one was grueling. Their work was like trying to shovel a path in a blizzard; there was always more work ahead and, looking back, it seemed as though they had done nothing.

Just after lunch, William was close to despair. His energy was sapped, his motivation ebbing, and his eyes were overtaxed. So it couldn't have possibly been timed better when Giana entered his office with a cup of coffee for him a few minutes later.

"Here, William," she smiled, setting the mug down in front of him. "Take a quick break."

"Thank you, Giana," he accepted willingly. "It's most welcome."

She took the seat across from him and sipped on her own coffee. When she sat down however, he began to shake his head, looking a bit worried.

"Neither of us can afford to take a very long break," he told her. "In fact, it would be best if you took your coffee back to your desk. If we speak, time might get away from us."

This surprised her. But once she studied his expression for a moment, she understood his trepidation. He had been doing so well staying focused and didn't want to undo the progress he had made. She smiled and glanced down at her watch.

"Then we won't speak," she stated. "If it's acceptable though, just for five minutes, I'd like to sit with you. I'm afraid if I leave you won't rest."

"Very well," he responded after a moment.

So they sat together in silence, drinking their liquid stamina. Steam curled from their mugs and bathed their noses in the aromatic scent of rich coffee.

Hope had blushed in William's heart again and, though he restrained his face from showing any particular emotion, his bright eyes studied the girl. While he had never been much of a judge of beauty, he found himself enjoying the sight of her soft features. And he supposed that she was beautiful.

She wasn't looking at him, at least, not his face. Restful and relaxed, she kept her eyes down. This was the first time she had shared a casual moment with him and she smiled because of it.

That was when she noticed his hands. He had removed his black gloves and, for the first time, she could see his actual fingers. They were coiled around his warm cup. Again she smiled.

_Even his hands are nice_, she mused gazing at the slender yet able-looking digits.

Closing her eyes, she wanted to savor this moment.

"Oh, Will darling~!" An all-too-familiar voice flirted loudly as the door burst open.

Both pairs of eyes turned to glare at the shinigami who had intruded on the restful moment. The obnoxiously red-clad figure flounced over to the desk.

"Guess who finished all their assignments for today~! That's right! Me~!" Then Grell saw his daughter. "Oh, Giana-lilly! I didn't know you were there!"

She winced as the man whose hair matched hers threw his arms around her shoulders and snuggled his head against hers.

"Hi, dad," she greeted blandly.

"Oh~! I could just eat you up! You're daddy's favorite little girl, you know?"

"I'm your _only_ little girl," she moaned slightly in exasperation.

The grimacing girl watched as William's jaw tightened and his hands clenched.

"Grell," he addressed at last, rising from his seat. "I've told you time and time again not to interrupt the serenity of my office unless you've come to turn in a work report. Now, out!"

The gender-confused shinigami released his daughter so quickly that she almost fell out of her chair.

"But that's exactly what I came here to do, Will!" He announced proudly extracting five or six sloppily recorded reaping reports.

Giana sighed and Will growled.

More work.

"You've likely filled them out incorrectly," the manager stated, desperate to get rid of his assistant's father. "Bring them back to me after you've _triple_ checked them."

Tears began to well up and Grell began to pout.

"It's a good thing I love you, Will! Because sometimes you can be so horrid!" He whined.

"Dad, please," the daughter intervened. "Could you do as he asked? William is very busy and he doesn't need more work at the moment."

"Hmmph! He doesn't _look_ very busy!" The father disagreed. "He's just sitting having coffee with you, while _I_ run around exhausting myself with work!" He huffed for a moment before being hit with a monumental realization. He gasped. "Wait just a moment! You two taking a coffee break?! Just what's going on here?!" His tone was akin to a furiously yapping chihuahua. "William! Could it be that you've rejected _me_ for my _dau_\- Hey!"

"Gimme your reports, dad!" Giana swiftly cut him off, snatching the papers out of his hands. At last, Grell was fuming with so much jealousy and anger that he was rendered utterly speechless.

Hiding her blush behind the papers, she rifled through them. Her expression became more and more incredulous as she looked them over. She couldn't believe how badly the reports had been written up. Furthermore, it seemed that Grell had spent more time drawing hearts and writing blush-worthy notes on the pages than he had actually filling out the information.

"Dad," she began in a half scolding, half incredulous tone. "These are unbelievable. How on _earth_ did you manage to graduate top of your class at the academy?" She pointed to the mess that were his reports. "You don't give the time and date of death on _any_ of these and you don't have descriptions of the deceased past whether they were male or female and how attractive they were. Actually, the only information you've filled out correctly is your name and the type of death scythe used. And as for these _other_ 'notes'," she indicated the romantic mentions with a scowl, "it looks more like pieces of a reaper's report got accidentally put into a bad romance novel." Like a scolding mother, she stood and extended the papers out to him again. "Go and revise these, please. This time, do it correctly."

With his red head hung low and "reports" in hand, Grell slunk out of the office, muttering something about "even his own daughter" being cruel to him.

Once he was gone, Giana collapsed into her seat and passed a hand over her eyes.

"I knew he tended to lose focus," she murmured. "But I had no idea his reports were such a _nightmare_."

"Yes," William sighed. "It's probably best that he doesn't do his assignments half the time. There's less of a mess to clean up."

The executive manager and the assistant met eyes and, a moment later, frustration turned to mirth as Giana began to laugh.

"You're right," she giggled, covering half of her pretty face in embarrassment.

Watching her face become even more lovely as she laughed, a smile formed on his lips. Soon, he let out a soft chuckle and laughed with her, covering his mouth with his hand.

"I must admit, sometimes I feel as though _I'm_ his parent," she confessed still laughing.

"You parent him well."

The compliment slowed her laugh slightly and caused her to simply smile back at him.

Laughter died and there was strangely intense moment as William locked eyes with her. Something swelled inside her and she was loath to breaking eye contact with him. There was something hidden in those impossibly green eyes of his, under his placid mask; something earnest and ardent.

She was required to breath deeply once or twice before she could speak again.

"We should get back to work," she stated, getting to her feet.

"Agreed," he nodded.

She left his office a bit shakily, but she quickly found her resolve. There was still a long day ahead of her.


	12. Sleep Deprivation & Suppressed Emotions

He stepped out of his office around 4:00 AM and into the dark, empty cubicle space. Leaning against his doorframe, he loosened his tie. His suit-coat hung over his arm.

It was done. William would remain the executive manager at the London Division Shinigami Dispatch and he owed it all to his assistant. Without her, it would've never been possible.

He stepped forward towards the only light in the huddle of cubicles.

_She left the light on for me_, he mused as he went to retrieve the papers his assistant would have completed by now.

As he came into view of her workspace his tired eyes widened in surprise. Giana was still at her desk. He had told her to go home the moment she had completed her work, but there she was. He walked closer, then stopped in realization.

_Oh, she was asleep._

The young woman's head was resting on her arm, while her hand limply held a pen. Stepping closer, he observed how her scarlet hair-now loose-spilled all across her desk and how her left cheek was smushed against her arm, giving her face a pudgier child-like appearance. Also, she had nearly completed all of the gigantic stack of papers she had taken from him, only three or four more were left blank.

At this he gave a soft smile, which then fled as he realized what he must do next. With an awkward step closer to her, he lightly rested his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Giana?" He inquired softly. "Giana? Wake up. Wake up!"

He shook a little harder, then a little harder, but each time to no avail. She must have been exhausted. Nothing shy of a slap to the face seemed to be capable of waking her, but that was obviously out of the question.

Perhaps he would allow her to sleep a bit longer while he tended to the few reports she had been unable to complete. But the longer he looked at her, the more he decided that he couldn't just leave her the way she was. The way she was resting with her back and neck bent was sure to leave a crick in both.

After a moment of uncertain debate, an eagerly generous part of William that he had never noticed before insisted that he do something to save her back and neck. After all, she had helped him keep his position. He owed her some thanks. With hesitant movements, he moved closer and slid his arms under her.

He did his best to maintain a neutral mindset that stated he was just being practical, but the newer emotional side of him screamed something else. True he was a bit terrified that she would wake up and find herself in his arms, but that was overshadowed by the lovely distraction of her scarlet head resting on his shoulder. As he carried her back to the office, he marveled at how close he was to her and how wondrous it felt. He laid her down with great care on the cushioned divan and brushed the fiery hair out of her face before returning to his desk with her papers that needed completing. Perhaps at some point before he was done, she would wake and he would be spared having to interrupt her slumber. Occasionally, however, he would glance back at the sleeping woman in his office, distracted once again.


	13. Cold Pride

**(So****…**** I don't want to paint a picture of myself for you that says I'm frail or anything****…**** but****…**** I was sick again. ^_^' Yep, so****…**** This one might not be as good as the others, it might seem a bit rushed, but we all knew it was inevitable! )**

Giana woke up at 6:35 AM, in a very different setting than she was accustomed to. She was confused at first, before she even opened her eyes. This place didn't smell like her bedroom, it smelled like... William. In fact, _she_ smelled like William.

Opening her eyes, she found herself in William's office on the divan against the opposite wall from the desk. With a closed-eyed yawn, she sat up slowly, scratching her cascading locks which had fallen loose in the night. Something warm slid from her shoulder. Will's suit jacket.

A smile drifted onto her lips as she pictured him laying it atop her as she slumbered. Her shoes had been removed too. They lay neatly in the floor just to her right. A warm blush rose on her skin when she fully realized... She'd been carried from her desk to the office. She had been in William's arms last night!

_William..._

Raising her eyes, she found the man sound asleep in his office chair. The girl stared at him, transfixed. He looked so very different when he was asleep; the sight was strangely captivating.

The fierce eyes that seemed to define him when he was awake were closed now and his stiff, formal appearance was entirely gone. His gloves still lay on the desk beside him, his jacket was around _her_ shoulders, his tie hung loose, his collared shirt had a button undone, and-Giana's favorite part-his pristinely groomed hair fell, tousled, on his forehead.

He looked years younger, as though the weight of professionalism aged him only while he was awake. She had only ever seen him look like William T. Spears, the executive manager of the London Division, but she had a feeling that who she saw before her was simply _William_. It made her smile.

Rising to her bare feet, she shifted the broad-shouldered jacket around her and stepped forward with care. She didn't wish to wake him.

She wondered at him. Everyone spoke tremblingly of his fierceness, yet he had only ever been kind to her. He was known for his diligence and focus, yet for some reason he had lost hold of both because of her. And he was seen as a stiff, formal, and purely professional man, yet here he was before her, taking a well-deserved nap at his desk. Her co-workers saw him as a force of nature, but she now saw him exactly how he was: just a man. A good man.

Removing the coat from her shoulders, she gently draped it around his. Still, he slumbered peacefully, his slow breaths moving silently through his parted lips.

She stood there for a moment more, considering him and her feelings. Briefly, she found herself wishing that those lips could meet hers. She didn't kiss him, of course, but she _did_ lingeringly brush a lock of hair from his forehead. His eyebrows flinched upwards slightly as he dreamed. Immediately, she wished she could soothe the stress from his brow.

She wanted so much for him, happiness, peace, love. She longed for the day when she might be able to see him as he was now, but he would be awake and perfectly content. She wanted such good things for him, so much so that she put herself second.

Closing her eyes, she laughed silently to herself.

She understood now, she was in love with William.

Happiness shone in her eyes as she reopened them to gaze at him. At least she didn't have to agonize over uncertain feelings anymore.

Moving away from him, she left the office and made her way to the ladies' lavatory. Once she had freshened up, re-styled her hair, and reapplied her make-up, she entered the cubicle space of the office. Her co-workers were just starting to arrive. As much as she wanted him to sleep, she knew she would have to wake William. It would be a painful blow to his pride if someone other than her saw the state he was currently in. So, after filling two cups of coffee, she returned to his office.

The sound of her closing the door after her was what woke him. His disheveled head bobbed upright with a start and he took several quick breaths as his eyes darted around the office.

"Good morning, William."

His eyes snapped to her, then softened. They almost looked relieved. Then he remembered his appearance.

"G-Good morning, Miss Sutcliff," he stumbled, hastening to re-button his shirt and tighten his tie.

The girl raised an eyebrow.

"'Miss Sutcliff'?" She asked. Laughing, she continued, "Will, it's been _ages_ since you called me that." As she sat down and put his coffee in front of him, she noticed the light blush on his face as he continued to struggle with his tie, his eyes averted. "William," she reached out and still the motion with gentle hand, "relax. You were up all night. It's to be expected that you'd look slightly less perfect than you usually do."

He stared at her. Was it just him, or was she acting differently? More... Warm? Her eyes seemed brighter and she was smiling almost constantly, a soft smile; one filled with pure joy.

Shaking off his observation, he invented an answer to her question.

"You were up all night as well, Giana. Yet you look as proper as you always do."

"Well, perhaps I wasn't up _all_ night," she noted with a particularly significant smile. "About that, thank you for taking care of me the way you did. It was very sweet of you."

"N-Not at all," he dismissed, continuing to straighten his appearance once more. "It was the least I could do. After all, without you, I would never have completed all the work necessary to maintain my position."

"You would never have gotten behind in the first place, either," she muttered, taking a sip from her mug.

"Giana," he sighed, putting on his gloves once more. "You must stop blaming yourself for that. It's completely useless."

"I don't blame myself for it, I state it as a fact!" She exclaimed. "Will, I would hate to see it happen again. Forgive me for being so blunt, but I think it's time you got your thoughts straight!" The man stared at her in surprise. "I think it's time you start asking yourself _why _I've been a distraction."

Gritting his teeth, he rose to his feet and looked down at her.

"What are you saying?" He inquired softly, a little too softly.

He was besuited once more and he looked stern once more.

_Hiding. He was hiding himself behind his pristine suit again, _she thought woefully.

"I'm saying, Mr. Spears," she began getting to her feet as well-though she still stood several inches shorter than him even in heels. "That your mask slips when you're around me. Why are you so kind to me? And why do you go to such lengths to hide it?"

"Miss Sutcliff, my apologies. You're overtaxed. I kept you working here all night. Perhaps-"

"No! Businessmen don't avoid questions!" She rebuked, much to his chagrin. Her eyes softened and she leaned forward pleadingly. "Please Will, for both our sakes, I need you to sort out the way you feel for me."

Closing his eyes, William forced out a string of words that sounded more like a lament than a scolding.

"Miss Sutcliff, you're _are _being blunt_. _There's no room for such things in a workplace. That is all I have to say on the matter. Now, I think it would be best if you left."

_Too fast. She had moved too fast_, she realized too late.

_Perhaps she had inherited a bit of her father's impulsiveness after all_, he mourned.

Stiffly, she nodded and turned towards the door.

"And please," he added. "Go home and get some rest. I believe you've earned a day off. Perhaps it will give you time to collect your thoughts before returning to work."

She turned and glared at him.

_How cold!_

"You would do well to take your own advice, _Mr. Spears_," she returned frostily.

The moment she left, instant regret and panic coursed through William like a flood. He gripped his head in his hand.

"You fool!" He berated himself.

_What have you done?_

The frigid look she had given him as she left had struck him hard. He had panicked when she began to confront him. So he had done the only thing his experience had taught him: be cold.

He had lost her. He was certain he had lost her forever. Not that he had ever _had_ her...

He looked down at his hands.

No, last night when he had carried her. He had had her then.

But now, due to his cursed pride, he had blundered.

He set himself to reconciling with what he had done.


	14. Daddy Dearest

**(For you Andrea! :) )**

"I'm so touched that you're spending more time with me, Giana-lilly," Grell gushed as he shared the bathroom mirror with his daughter. He attempted to knot his bow-tie to perfection. "Ah! It really warms my heart! I forgive you, by the way, for how _rude_ you were the other day to me in Will's office."

"Thanks, dad," the daughter responded lifelessly. "I'm glad I didn't hurt your feelings too much."

With a shifty glance over at his little girl, he noticed something very suspicious.

"Hmm..." He hummed, redoing his crooked tie. "You didn't straighten your hair today. Is something wrong, precious?"

"No, dad. I just didn't feel like going to the trouble," she stated, focusing on the mascara she was applying to her eyelashes.

"Well, that doesn't sound like you! Are you sure? You _know _you can confide in dear old daddy!"

She gave a small huff of frustration before marching out of the bathroom.

"I said I'm _fine_, dad! Now please, leave me be," she begged.

The father poked his head out after her, before shrugging and going back to his tie in the mirror.

"Whatever you say, sweetie!" He sang. "Oh, by the way, I laid out a dress for you on your bed. I bought it for you today! I saw it and immediately thought of you! Maybe you could wear it tonight?"

There was a brief pause as Giana went into her bedroom.

"_Dad_!"

"Yes, dear?"

"It's _red_!"

"I know, dear."

Her head reappeared in the bathroom doorway.

"You _know_ red isn't my color!"

"Well, that's problematic, my flower," Grell giggled slyly. "Because you seem to be stuck with it for life!" He winked.

She scowled down at her traitorous scarlet locks.

"I _prefer_ blue," she grumbled.

"Eh?!" He exclaimed as she walked away again. "You want blue hair?!"

"What? No! No, I like to _wear_ blue."

Lifting the red dress and holding it to her, she had to admit it was an attractive style, but everything her father ever got for her was-predictably-red. Plus, she was uncomfortable with looking exactly like her father when they both went out together. She was often mistaken for him as a result.

With a sigh, she put the dress back in her room, then went to mope in the living-room. It had been two days since her discussion with William and she was yet to exchange more than simple pleasantries with him. It was troubling. What was more troubling was that her father had _noticed_, which meant it must've been fairly obvious just by looking at her.

"Giana? Are you ready?" The man entered the living-room and saw the state she was in. "Why, you haven't even put on your dress yet!" There was silence for a moment, then he came and sat beside her, studying her expression closely. "There's _definitely_ something troubling you. You look quite forlorn!"

Giana said nothing. There was no point in opposing the truth now. Things would merely get ugly.

"Let me fix your hair while we talk about it, hmm?"

Silently, she turned her back to him obediently and rested her chin on her knees.

"So, what _is _going on between you and Will?" He inquired, running his fingers through her fine locks to separate them. "Maybe a french braid? No, no. Heavens, that won't do. Perhaps a waterfall braid will do the trick. Yes, I think so," he murmured as he began weave a loose plait with her thick hair.

Her tongue wouldn't move. She'd never entrusted such sensitive information to her father before and she didn't even know exactly how to begin.

"Now, now, I know you may not want to talk about it, but keeping it bottled up hasn't helped you so far, now has it?" He stated pointedly. "What's going on between you and Will?"

"There's..." She spoke, off to a rocky start. "There's... Nothing between the two of us. Nothing. Nothing at all."

Her words were true enough, but the sound of lamentation saturated her words so heavily that even Grell couldn't have missed it. After finishing with her locks, he took her chin in his fingers and turned her face to him. Tutting at her expression, he gave a pitiful sigh.

"Oh my, I know what that look means. You've fallen in love. Hmm. And with Will of all people," he seemed to be a bit put out. "IF I DIDN'T APPROVE OF YOUR TASTE SO MUCH, I'D BE VERY, VERY CROSS!" Collecting himself, he cleared his throat. "But, 'tis true, all's fair in love and war. So, there's _nothing between the two of you_, eh? I'll bet you _wish_ there was!"

Giana hung her head as her eyes began to mist. Giving a small, sad nod, she held her tongue.

"Oh~!" He exclaimed ecstatically. "My baby girl! In love!"

"I-It doesn't matter, dad!" She silenced him. "What I said is true, there's nothing between us."

He froze upon seeing the tears in her eyes and fell silent for once.

"I've ensured that," she groaned bitterly, the tears falling now. "I've been such an idiot. You know! You know how work-driven William is! I don't know why I thought I could compete with that."

"Oh, sweet-pea! Please! Please don't cry!" Grell begged, weeping suddenly.

"Maybe I was wrong about thinking that he cared for me..." The image of William carrying her sleeping form into his office then covering her with his coat haunted her. "But I don't think so..." She suddenly felt nauseous at the thought of being responsible for losing access to that tender side of him. "Bloody death, what've I done?"

Burying her face in her hands, she cried silently.

Then she was gathered in the arms of the last person she thought she would be comforted by. Her father held on to her _silently_ and rocked her a bit. Surprised but willing, she let him and cried into his waistcoat.

The mood might've been ruined had she known that Grell had snot running down his face.

"I've ruined it, daddy," she lamented. "I've spoiled it all! I was too quick to approach him about it and now it's over! And it's not fair to William! He _needs_ someone!"

The two of them sat in silence for a while more until Giana had been properly comforted, much to her surprise. As she pulled away from him and viewed his mess of a face, she knew that she would receive no advice, no words of wisdom from him. But he had been there for her in a surprisingly normal way and she was grateful.

"Thank you, daddy," she said softly, drying her eyes. "I think I needed to let that out."

"Oh, anything for you, my baby girl!" He assured ardently, grasping one of her hands tightly. "And please, don't cry anymore! Why don't you finish getting ready and we'll go out, hmm? Won't that cheer you up?"

She smiled and rose from her seat.

For all her father's obliviousness and idiocy, he had a genuine heart underneath. If nothing else came of this whole ordeal with William and it was truly over, she was glad, at least, that she had seen this side of her father.

"Thank you, daddy. Yes, I'll go get ready now." She turned away, but then stopped. "Ah, you won't tell anyone about this, right dad? It'll be our secret?"

He nodded.

"It'll be a secret between daddy and daughter!"

"Good." She noticed the bow at his throat. "Your tie is still crooked."

"I can't help it! The stupid thing won't tie right!" He yapped angrily. Then his voice shrunk to a humble petition. "Will you try to fix it for me?"

Again, she smiled.

"Come here," she caved and redid it perfectly in the first try. "Anything for you, daddy," she said walking away.

"You'll even wear the dress I got you?"

"Anything but that."


	15. Sent on a Troublesome Case

It was a Tuesday and yesterday had been laundry day. Giana stiffly made her way to her office in her awkwardly pink collared shirt. She prayed no one would notice it.

"Giana!" A friendly voice called out.

"Hi, Ron."

"Mind if I escort you to your cubicle today?" He grinned.

"Not really," she chuckled. "You seem awfully chipper today. What's up?"

"Well," he began, walking with his hands behind his head. "You know that promotion coming up for our floor? I'm pretty sure I'm gonna land it!"

"Oh, how come you're so sure?" She demanded with a grin. "You've said yourself that you hardly do any more work than necessary."

"Yeah, well, I've been knucklin' down lately. If I get promoted I'll get a raise _and _I'll be able to choose what sort of work I want to do."

"Which is?"

"No more desk jobs for me. I want to be a full-time collector! Out on the field, just me and my death scythe... _That's_ for me!"

"Dream on, Ronald," she laughed. "Even if you _do_ get that promotion I'd bet you'd get mad with your work load again and want something different."

"Yeah, you're probably right," he chuckled. Suddenly, his eyes zeroed in on her with minor confusion. "Hey, isn't that the shirt you always wear to work?" The girl winced. "Why is it pink?"

"One of my dad's clothes got thrown in with my whites in the wash," she groaned. "It's all I've got 'til I can get a new one."

"Oh, right."

There was momentary silence as they entered the elevator. Once the doors closed, Ronald Knox looked over his friend with concern. He knew that something had gone on between her and William a while ago and had slowly been watching her recovery. She had been doing better recently, but he still worried about her.

"So, how've you been doing?" He inquired.

"Alright, I guess. Why do you ask?" Was her response.

"Oh, I just worry about ya," he admitted casually. "And I don't like seeing you all down in the dumps."

"Oh, Ronald..."

"It's true! Just promise me that if you need somethin' to boost your spirits, you'll give me a call. Okay?" He exited the elevator as they arrived on their floor.

She had to smile.

"Okay, I promise."

"Good. I can't have my best girl all down!" He turned and winked at her.

"You're too sweet, Ron," she laughed as she sat down at her desk.

"I know, doll. I know."

The rest of the work day passed without anything of note happening. The first half of the day was busy, full of energy, and there was a lot of paperwork for Giana to do. Then there was lunch. The food she brought had been prepared by her father and so was pretty bland. Later, the day proceeded in a similar way but to a lesser degree.

Close to quitting time, however, Giana began to notice more and more people leaving their desks to take collecting jobs. Soon, she was one of the only ones left working in the office. She had very little left to do, then she would be able to go home to her father and a nice cup of echinacea tea.

"Miss Sutcliff?" A startling voice sounded from behind her at some point.

She froze and turned around slowly to face the man to whom she hadn't spoken with in a month.

"Yes... Mr. Spears?" She responded carefully.

He was standing in his office doorway, looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Would you step into my office for a moment?" He inquired.

"O-Of course, one moment," she answered shakily.

As she collected all the papers she had already completed to give to him, she positively trembled. Her mind was tumbling through dozens of theories of what he might have to say.

When she finally managed to walk into his office and close the door, he was already seated at his desk. He then motioned for her to do the same.

"Please, sit."

Complying, she slid her papers onto his desk.

"I've completed nearly all my work for today, W... Mr. Spears," she stated. "I'm sorry if I was slow in getting it to you."

"What?" He looked confused. "No, not at all. You never are." The compliment seemed to have slipped his watch and he paused before continuing. "No, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Oh, I see."

"Yes, ordinarily I would take care of these things myself, but I find myself unable to tend to anything but paperwork today. I _hate_ to ask it of you," he qualified, "but every other capable reaper is currently occupied. There's a particularly troubling case that's just come up. Do you think you could tend to it?"

"I'll..." _Do anything for you._ "...do my best."

"You should know, however, that this particular case is a bit of a wildcard," he warned her. "I'm not certain what precisely it will entail."

She blinked.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"We don't have the usual information with this case as we normally do with the others. We don't know the deceased's name, age, or description. There was a serious accident down in printing and this is the result. Luckily, it's only on this one case."

"Isn't there a way to acquire the missing information concerning the deceased?"

"Yes, but not before tonight. That is when they die."

"So, we _do_ have a date and time then?"

"We have a date, but not a time."

She let her posture slouch back against the seat and stared into space for a moment. She breathed.

"This is going to be quite difficult. Do we at least have an address?" She asked.

"We do," he frowned, handing her the troublesome case file.

It was obvious that the paper she was handed had been nearly destroyed; it was limp, wrinkled, and bent as old parchment. Large opaque islands of black ink clotted the paper, completely obscuring most of the vital information.

"Oh," she gasped as she looked it over. She was surprised that William had managed to drag as much information from it as he had. There was one area that was fairly legible though: the location of the death. "Phantomhive Manor? Where is that?"

"It's in the countryside, just outside London," he answered. "And I'm loath to send you there."

"Why?"

"It's home to some very troublesome creatures, they've gotten in the way of reapers before. It's actually rather dangerous." _I don't want to put you in danger._

"Oh, don't worry about that. I can take care of myself," she assured him. "I'll go there straight away. It might already be too late."

As she stood to leave, William put a hand on her arm and stopped her, making Giana turn back to him in hopeful surprise.

"Be on your guard... Giana," he told her, forcing her name out like it was barbed. "It might be best if you took a disguise with you. The earl who lives there is hosting a party tonight and there will be a great number of unwanted eyes there."

Nodding, she took his warning to heart, but did not understand it. There seemed to be something he wasn't telling her, but she dared not press. She didn't want to seem over-anxious.

"I'll be careful and successful," she assured him. "I won't," _Let you down._ ", fail, I promise."


	16. Two Uninvited Guests

The manor was huge. It was easily the largest house Giana had ever seen. And she had miscalculated the number of people that would be there. When William had spoke of a "party", she had assumed that meant twenty guests at the most, but there were easily a hundred. This job was proving to be more and more difficult all the time.

The atmosphere was bright and lively inside, music poured out of every open door, and she could see swirling skirts and clean suits spinning gaily through the windows of the ballroom. She was glad indeed that she had brought camouflage so people might not think anything odd of her appearance there. Now if only she could get inside through one of those open terrace doors.

"It's a splendid ball, earl," Lau stated appreciatively.

"Yes, indeed," Ciel Phantomhive responded. "Every detail was planned to perfection. I wanted to ensure the perfect setting for my meeting with Mr. Farfingle and his wife."

"Oh? Are they the couple over there?" The chinese trader inquired, motioning to a pair of heavyset nobles lounging by the food table, their eyes narrow with distrust at those around them. "They seem to be having a good time," he mused sarcastically.

"They're proving to be a very difficult pair to keep happy," the eyepatch-wearing earl said with distaste. "But it is of no matter. It is important that I succeed in befriending them. They own several companies I would like to merge with Funtom Toys." He turned to the tall, dark butler who had been standing at his side. "Sebastian, ensure that their evening goes smoothly."

"Yes, my lord," the man answered, bowing his head.

"Speaking of which, Lau, why are you here?" Ciel Phantomhive inquired. "I don't recall inviting _you_."

"Well, I couldn't afford to miss one of your splendid parties, now could I?"

"Tsk, you really must stop inviting yourself to events where you're not wanted!" The boy spat in vexation. "However, you may stay if you wish, seeing as how you're already here. Though you were counting on that, no doubt."

"My, how generous you are!" The squinty man perused the room around him. "Ah, I say. I wasn't aware that you had hired new servants."

"What are you talking about?"

"That maid over there," he indicated a young woman carrying a tray on the other side of the ballroom. "She's new isn't she? And quite lovely."

"I haven't hired any new servants," the young earl murmured, eying the girl with suspicion. "Sebastian, do you know that woman?"

"No, I don't believe so and she's certainly not a Phantomhive maid," the butler stated. "Furthermore, I don't believe she was invited."

"Then she might be a threat," the master replied. "She certainly _looks_ suspicious. Go keep an eye on her, Sebastian. Whether she be a thief or a spy, deal with her accordingly."

A gleam shone in Sebastian's eyes as he placed a gloved hand over his heart.

"Yes, my lord."


	17. The Kiss of Death

**(I _REALLY _hope that some of you are Sebastian fans like I am, because, if not… well… it sort of sucks to be you with this chapter! Jus' saying… … … Love you! Bye!)**

_This is a nerve-wracking nightmare!_

There were so many people all around her and she didn't have the slightest clue who she was looking for. She couldn't even identify her target.

What's more, Giana felt extremely out of her element and she was completely alone. A collecting job had never taken her into high society; usually she haunted alleys and back roads, and-most commonly-cobbled streets. Never among chatting noblemen and gossiping ladies.

Nevertheless, she was determined to her job well.

Picking up a nearby tray of hors d'oeuvres, she walked through the crowd in her maid attire as confidently as she could. Her eyes slid over the constantly shifting mass of eye-throbbingly dressed people. Occasionally, someone would call her over to take some of the food on her tray and she would obey, but only so she might see the room from a new prospective.

She wasn't looking for a particular person; she wouldn't know who to look for after all. She was searching for any gestures of plotting, or signs of a subdued struggle, anything that might indicate death. But she saw nothing. Not even the dark man who watched her from a short distance away with piercing eyes.

Giving a sigh, she was resigned. Her tray was empty and this room was pointless. Putting the tray back where she took it from, she settled herself in one of the corners to think her course of action through.

There was no indication as to what kind of death would be suffered here. It could be anything from natural causes to murder. But there was one thing that Giana was certain of: if anything happened in this room it wouldn't go unnoticed. Even if Giana chose to wander elsewhere, she would be able to come back in time. Someone would scream, the music would cease, and everything would come to a standstill. It would be unmissable.

So she wondered, _if I were going to kill someone, where would I do it?_

_The garden!_ She decided.

Stepping out onto one of the terraces and hurrying down the steps to the garden path, she looked all around her. There wasn't a soul to be seen. There was, however, a small hedge-maze.

_What a perfect place to be murdered. Out of sight, away from those who might interfere._

Knowing she had to proceed carefully in case there _was_ a murder taking place, she moved slowly and silently forward. Looking around, she ensured that there wasn't anything that she was missing, then she entered the maze. All was deathly silent.

She hadn't made it three turns into the shrubbery, however, when a shocking voice sounded from behind her.

"What a suspicious little maid you are, sneaking into the party, then out again without so much as dancing a waltz."

A man's voice, as smooth and soft as silk.

She froze. Then slowly began to turn around.

"No, stay where you are," he commanded, his voice sounding so strangely kind. "No sudden movements, please. I wouldn't be held responsible for what would follow. Now," he prompted. "Tell me, what is your business here?"

The female reaper said nothing, but stood in silence. Her mind raced to figure out what she was going to do.

"Your hair is the color of fresh blood," he stated, his figure encroaching upon hers. _He smelled of roses. _"Quite beautiful. And I can sense the scent of death on you. Are you an assassin?" _Who was this man?!_ "I hope not, for your sake..."

The glint of sharpened metal caught Giana's eye in the moonlight and she spun as she extracted her scythe, which had been concealed until then. There was a clash of metal against metal as her katana came in contact with the... _Cutting utensils _held in the man's hand. When their eyes clashed however, the girl let out a gasp.

This man's looks were arresting. He was by far the most handsome specimen of manhood Giana had ever seen. He had hair of ebony which glanced his cheeks and wine-red eyes. His fair skinned and flawless features, however, seemed to be secondary to the _aura_ about him.

She took a deep breath through her nostrils and felt her head buzz a bit. Squinting in confusion as her senses seemed to dim slightly, she stepped back and lowered her scythe.

"I'm not an assassin," she told him. "And I have no wish to fight you."

His ruby gaze flicked from her eyes, to her blade, then back again. Perfect lips spread in a smile.

"Ah, so you're a grim reaper," he stated.

She gasped.

"How do you know about... How'd you..." She stumbled through a broken sentence until she righted her composure and simply demanded, "How?!"

The handsome man smirked and lowered his own cutlery.

"I've... Had dealings with your kind before," he answered vaguely.

"I see," she nodded, recalling what William had said. "Well, now that you know I mean no harm, could you please leave me be to do my job?"

"Who's going to die?" He asked in his infuriatingly beautiful voice.

Giana was actually having a hard time looking at him.

"I don't know," she told him after a moment of deliberation.

"Reapers always know."

"Not this time. This is a special case."

It was silent for a moment.

"I believe you." This surprised the girl. "You would've already taken care of the soul had you known, yet you've been here for some time. You're waiting." It wasn't a question. He knew, he had figured it out. "How long have you been a reaper, miss?"

At this point, the girl was downright angry. She was angry and she didn't trust him.

_Who gave him permission to sound and look so attractive?!_

"What does that matter?" She demanded impatiently.

"It doesn't really," he played, looking down at her with those slanting eyes. "You simply seem different from the other reapers I've met."

She blushed crossly as she looked up at him again and quickly darted her eyes away.

_Blast! He's far too good looking for my liking! I love William and I won't be distracted from him!_

That last thought stumbled her. Perhaps she _did_ love William, but it wasn't exactly as if she were tied to him, was it? After all, what harm was this man doing?

She shook her head and re-approached this man with a new mindset.

"Would you happen to know of anyone of the guests that is sick or old or suspicious? Or perhaps the master of this place? Would you happen to know him?"

Another perfect smile.

"I'm Sebastian Michaelis, the young master's head butler here at Phantomhive Manor," he answered. "And I can assure you, neither the master nor the staff will be the one's that die."

"Oh," she said in surprise. _This man was the Phantomhive butler?_ She had been under the impression that butlers were all old men and thoroughly non-noteworthy. "Well, then. What of the guests? Do any of them have fatal ailments?"

Sebastian turned his wine-soaked gaze away and lifted a gloved finger below his lower lip as he pondered her question. In all honesty, she was shocked that he was acting so calmly and helping her. After all, she _was_ a grim reaper.

"One or two of the more rotund guests may suffer from a heart condition, but other than that, none of them have illnesses that I'm aware of. As for 'suspicious' or dangerous figures," he came near her and whispered playfully, "many if not all of the guests of Earl Phantomhive have a mottled past, making all of them suspicious. Although, that may not be of much help," he gave a chuckle.

"Hmm, thank you at least for trying," she thanked him mildly. "But you're right, it really doesn't help. I'm sorry for any worry I may have caused you with my appearance."

She turned away.

"You don't seemed to be concerned that I'll tell anyone of our encounter," he stated, all sportiveness gone from his voice.

She turned back to the strange butler and laughed liltingly.

"Why should I be?" She inquired. "It's not technically against any rules to tell anyone what we are and what our purpose is for being somewhere. If you informed anyone who mattered, I would be in no trouble whatsoever. And if you told anyone else, well," she laughed again, "they wouldn't believe you, would they? After all, grim reapers are only in fairytales and not many at that."

He regarded her for a moment, taken aback, before he too smiled.

"Touché," he answered.

"SEBAS-CHAN!" A shrill and unexpected voice came from the air.

"Oh dear," the butler sighed tiredly.

The girl squinted up into the darkness, very confused indeed.

"That couldn't possibly be-"

"I beg your pardon, miss," the man who smelled of roses apologized as he swiftly slid an arm around Giana's slim waist, pulling her to him.

She didn't even have time to exclaim in shock as his lips were suddenly upon hers. Her eyes widened in astonishment.

H-H-Her first kiss! It was being spent on this man she didn't even know?!

The man whose lips were against hers inhaled sharply after a moment, then his mouth began to _move_. Luckily, he didn't intrude past her lips, but it wasn't necessary to make Giana's legs turn to pudding. He clutched her waist tighter, then his other hand found her nape.

Her cheeks enflamed as one hand on his sturdy chest, which had originally been placed there to push him away, began to hesitantly slide up over his shoulder. Her eyes fluttered closed. Heart flailing wildly, her senses began to fade in and out of focus as his lips molded hers repetitively. It seemed to her that he breathed strangely heavily with every draw on her mouth, like he was inhaling her.

She was growing dizzy and all thoughts seemed far, far away. There was something she felt like she should've remembered during all of this, but that too was distant.

It went on forever, or no for time at all. It was hard to tell. All that she knew was that, eventually, it was over and that the two of them had somehow become much closer intertwined than they had started out. When he pulled away, some of her long strands had been tangled in his gloved fingers which held the back of her neck rather tightly and one of her _own_ hands was gripping his back while the other lay on one of his lapels.

She was stunned, red-faced, and thoroughly embarrassed, but all she could do was stare up into his extraordinary face and catch up on lost breath. He looked almost as stunned as she felt and his eyes positively sparkled. For a time, he stared into her blue and green eyes and she into his of blood. Then most of Giana's senses came flooding back to her.

_Was somebody crying?_

Twisting her head around, she saw a certain red shinigami staring at them while bawling like a stung baby. The girl nearly fainted. This was the last thing she needed at the moment, hysterics on top of confusion.

"F-F-Father!" She stuttered hoarsely, her voice wobbly as a newborn colt standing for the first time.

"Your father?" Sebastian gaped, turning to the weeping reaper in disbelief.

"GIANAAAAA! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEE?!" Grell gave an ear-piercing cry and sank to his knees. "AFTER ALL I'VE DONE FOR YOUUUHUHU! I EVEN HELPED YOU WITH WILL AND EVERYTHIHIHING!"

Blushing as red as her hair, she squirmed out of the butler's arms and put two large strides between them. She attempted to gather herself, covering her lips.

_What... What had just happened?_ She glanced over at the man who had just kissed her. He was staring at her with an unreadable expression. _Were... All... Kisses like that?_

Something latched itself onto her legs. She looked down to see her father.

"IT'S NOT FAIRRRR!"

"Dad, please! Don't-"

"WHY HAVE YOU GOTTEN ALL THE HANDSOME, TO-DIE FOR MEN?!"

"Daddy! It's not-"

"WHY MY BASSY, GIANA?! WHYYY?!"

"DAD!" She shouted, prying his hands off of her. "Get off!"

Grell sniffled in the dirt and Sebastian watched in approval as the daughter gave no sympathy.

"This isn't what it seems!" She insisted, pointing at the handsome butler. "Now, I have no idea why-" Realization hit her and her eyes darted back and forth between the two men for a moment. It didn't take her long to figure out. "Ah. Actually, yes. Yes, I do know why..." She sighed almost in disappointment as she cast a sideways glance at the butler. So, her first kiss _was_ wasted after all. Well... Maybe not _wasted_... "Anyway, that doesn't matter. Dad, why are you here?" He wouldn't meet her gaze. "No, look at me. Why are you here?"

"I... I wanted to visit Bassy..." He whimpered.

Giana put a palm to her face.

"Well, I'm in the middle of a job here now. So please, go home."

"GO HOME?!"

"Is there an echo out here, Sebastian?" She asked in annoyance.

"I believe so," he responded with a smirk. The way she was dealing this annoying nuisance of a reaper was pleasing him to no end.

"FINE! I'LL GO HOME, GIANA. BUT WE'RE GOING TO TALK ABOUT THIS! YOU CAN'T TREAT YOUR DADDY THIS WAY!"

Weeping and sputtering, the scarlet reaper leapt away, leaving everyone alone.

"You handle him spectacularly," he marveled.

"Only when he's like this," she stated wearily.

"Is he not always like that?"

"No, sometimes he's worse," she laughed jokingly. "But sometimes, occasionally, he's much, much better." With a tired sigh, she turned on the handsome young man. "Please, would you do something for me?"

"Oh, what would that be, Miss Giana Sutcliff?" He inquired with a slight grin, using her name for the first time.

"Don't ever use me as a scapegoat again, agreed?"

He seemed surprised, but smiled.

"Very well, though I take it you understand my reasons for doing so?"

"Oh, I do. Quite well, but I think you should be sparing with your kisses if they're all as..." _Lethal... Vicious... No, those adjectives make me sound like my father._ "...intense as that one. You never know when you're going to take someone's _first_ kiss."

"That was your first?" He inquired. _No wonder she gave in so quickly_. A nod was her response. "My apologies."

"It's alright, I guess," she allowed with a shrug. "You _did_ apologize before you did it, I suppose. Besides," she flashed him a smile meant to make him feel better, "_I _don't consider it a total loss. Though it's true you didn't have to be quite so enthusiastic about it."

Sebastian took a moment before he went to answer, but before he could, a scream sounded from the ballroom. The music inside halted and the commotion started.

"Ah, that's my cue, I believe," she stated, turning towards the manor. "I regret to have met you under such grim circumstances, Sebastian Michaelis. But, I suppose, under what other circumstances would you meet a grim reaper?"

She gave him one last smile, then leapt high into the air and sprang towards the mansion. The butler was left in the garden to contemplate her.

Oh, that kiss. Those eyes. That... _Soul_.

He had been curious about her the moment he had looked into those dual-colored eyes of hers. The opportunity of the kiss had been to perfect to resist. Then when he _had_ tasted her lips-smelled her soul-he admitted, he had gotten carried away. The ravenousness within his demon spirit had latched onto the smell of her soul with a ferocity that had been difficult even for _him_ to shake.

He slid a gloved thumb along his bottom lip and smirked.

_To think, that girl was the daughter of Grell Sutcliff_.

What an interesting creature. Yes, very interesting. And what a total waste of his precious time... Much to his regret.


	18. The Fury of a Reaper in Love

The following day at the office was both a bit more manageable as well as more distracting for Giana. She was eager to forget the events that transpired the previous night, especially the intimate exchange between the Phantomhive butler and her.

As for her interaction with William, it was still very brief and to the point. There had been nothing exchanged between them that was reminiscent of the conversations they used to have. He said nothing to her other than a morning greeting, indicating her assignments to her, and then mumbling something about an unpleasant smell in his office. She had returned to her desk as quickly as possible after that, eager to avoid any more awkwardness.

Still, as she returned to her work, thoughts of last night plagued her. It was frustrating. She had already turned in the soul collector's report to William; the case was closed and her work required all of her focus. Yet, her thoughts would occasionally flicker to the kiss she had been given by the handsome man. As much as she was embarrassed to admit it, the memory set her cheeks aflame and her heart racing.

That night, after many long hours of struggle and effort, she had completed her tasks. It was at last time to turn in her work and go home.

When she placed her work on William's desk, all was silent for several moments.

"So, the deceased choked to death?" William inquired, breaking the silence as he viewed her paperwork. "On the Phantomhive case last night," he specified. "He choked to death? How... Unexpected."

"Yes," Giana responded, a bit confused as to why he was bringing it up. Then her spirits lifted slightly. _Was he trying to make small talk? Did he still care? _"It surprised me as well. The way you spoke of the case, I fully expected it to be a murder."

"As did I," he stated, suddenly frowning. "In fact, I'm still not entirely certain that it wasn't."

His expression was curious to his assistant. He genuinely more interested in the case than he did in continuing their conversation. After a moment of silent pensiveness on his part, he seemed to realize that Giana was staring at him.

"But it doesn't matter, I suppose," he stated coldly, completely betraying his previous interest. "The case is complete and correct. That is all that matters." He straightened the papers and filed them away in the filing cabinet, before turning back to his assistant. "Did you encounter any... Problems at the manor?"

"Uh..."

She tugged on a lock of her red hair and desperately hoped that she wasn't blushing. She began to suddenly feel a bit ashamed at the thought of the kiss she had shared-albeit merely as an escape tactic for him-with Sebastian. It was as if she had somehow betrayed William.

"No, no _problems_," she stated casually. Dodging his inquiring gaze, she continued with a shrug, "There were a few _minor_ complications, but they were resolved quite quickly."

"Ah, I see. Very good."

He took a deep breath through his nose and his face contorted slightly in displeasure. Sniffing several more times, he continued to look a bit disgusted.

"What is it?" The girl asked.

"Do... Do you smell an unpleasant odor?" He queried hesitantly.

Giana took an experimental sniff. Then she shook her head.

"No, it smells the way your office always smells to me. What does it smell like?"

"It... It smells like... Almost like..." His words trailed off and he gave a sigh. "My apologies, Miss Sutcliff. It doesn't matter. Your shift is over and you should be going home."

She was disappointed, but at least he hadn't inquired further concerning the Phantomhive case. Putting a hand to her lips, her thoughts wondered briefly.

"Yes, I suppose I should," she murmured. "My father is angry at me again, so I'll be taking him to dinner tonight. I wouldn't want to kiss- miss... Miss that." She winced, letting her fingers drop from her lips.

_Damn Freudian Slip!_

Her verbal mishap did not go unnoticed by William, who eyed her curiously for a moment.

_Kiss_? He had heard it quite clearly.

"Why is Grell angry with you?" He inquired pointedly.

"Uh... Who knows?" She tried to brush off casually with a nervous laugh. But she was terrible at lying.

William rose from his chair and inspected her suspiciously as he stepped forward. From the way she wouldn't meet his eyes, he was certain that she was hiding something. Something involving a kiss and her father and...

His heart stuttered.

The only time she would have had to make her father angry would have been between when he saw her the night before and this morning.

_The Phantomhive Manor_.

Standing directly before her, the manager stared down at his lovely little assistant. He nearly coughed as the acrid smell grew stronger. _She was the source of the scent!_ Green eyes narrowed as he began to recognize it.

A kiss.

An angry Grell.

A scent like this and...

"The butler?"

Giana's eyes grew wide before she closed them and looked down in embarrassment. She had no clue how he had figured it out, but there was obviously no use in pretending otherwise.

The man's blood began to boil, but he forced himself to remain exteriorly calm. There was no mistaking the honesty of the young woman's expression. Clenching his jaw, he turned and walked to the window.

"You should go, Miss Sutcliff," he suggested firmly. "If what I think happened between you and the Phantomhive butler is true, then your father is most likely _very_ upset."

Tears began to leak out of Giana's eyes. Will was angry with her. He was sending her away, dismissing her. What could she say to express how much she hoped this wasn't the end of their relationship?

"Please, go," he requested, his voice tight. "I have things to tend to." An apology caught in the girl's throat, but she could not speak. When she did not move, William urged her, "Please, Giana. Go!"

She fled, tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt like a traitor.

William, however, snatched up his scythe the moment Giana closed his door. Nearly reckless with rage, he threw open his window and leapt out into the cool London air.

_The scent of a demon._ He thought he had recognized it. Giana had been drenched in it.

He was seething at the thought of that vile creature laying his hands on his precious assistant, of _kissing_ her. It made him nauseous with revulsion. The innocent girl had likely not even known to resist and had been swayed by the demon's wicked charm.

_But why had he chosen her?! _The beast already had a master, a chosen prey, a reserved meal.

The reaper could only think of two reasons: either the demon's contract holder had ordered him to for some depraved purpose, or the he had decided to pursue her, driven by hunger or desire.

Either way, William had an appointment with an old enemy tonight and a young woman to protect.


	19. A Beast in Pursuit

(A/N: Sorry it's been so long since the last update! :( I started college stuffs and have been super duper busy! So, yeah… sorry about that. Once I figure out my routine a little better, I'll be posting more! I promise! And Andrea, I promise there will be more Grell and daughter interaction too! :) I actually really love writing it and I think it's an important part of the story. So, yes. Definitely more of that. Anyway, love you all!Thank you! Bye!)

Will stood erect in the high branches of the tree like an eagle. He waited, his scythe in hand. The Phantomhive estate loomed massive before him, completely swathed in darkness. It was at the very darkest hour on a moonless night. But he knew that the butler would come, for a demon never sleeps.

As sure as darkness falls, the immaculately suited butler appeared below him not five minutes after Will had come to be there. The bitter reek of demon assaulted the reaper's nose. His lip curled with disgust.

_How could it have been that Giana hadn't smelled him?_

"To what do I owe the pleasure of such an unexpected visit, shinigami?" The demon asked, a threat barely veiled under his charming tone.

"I understand you met my secretary yesternight, demon," Will stated, trying to stem his anger and confront him as a gentleman before resorting to more... transparent methods of communication.

"Ah, yes," Sebastian chuckled. "The nuisance's daughter. What a surprise that was." All false politeness and joviality fled his tone. "What of her?"

The demon's flippancy irked Will and he gritted his teeth. Jumping down to land before his enemy, he held his posture flawlessly.

"I am under the impression that you..." He struggled against the words. "...had a rather close exchange with her."

"Oh," his expression became sly. "Who was it that informed you? Did Grell complain to you about it, or did she confide in you?"

"Neither," the reaper spat. "I smelled your stench on her."

Sebastian's eyes narrowed. The two men stared one another down for several moments, Sebastian trying to read the reaper and Will simply glaring in anger.

"Why are you here, William Spears?"

"To remind you that you already have a _master_," he said the word mockingly. "Be satisfied with who you've already caught in your net. You would do well to resist your greedy hunger. It will lead you places you have no right intruding upon." He adjusted his glasses and gave the demon an evil eye. "Keep your distance from Giana."

Oh, the demon understood now. He understood so very well. A smirk crossed his fine lips and he chuckled. His magenta eyes began to blaze.

"I enjoyed meeting her," he confessed, just to test the reaper. "I enjoyed kissing her. But I deemed her unworthy of my time, unfortunately." Here he paused, surprised at how easily he could read William's emotions at the moment. The reaper obviously looked a bit relieved. "However, this intrigues me. How long have I known you, shinigami? How long have I disrupted your otherwise perfect agenda?"

"Five years, I believe," was the annoyed answer. His face had darkened again.

"Such a long time," Sebastian mused. "And never have I seen you so moved about anything. And you come here at _ungodly_ hours of the night," he chuckled ironically, "to thunderously tell me to stay away from your secretary. My question is _why_?" He began to circle with William, his eyes gleaming predatorily. "Could it be that you've fallen in love, William? Well, she _is_ rather fine, I suppose." His grin was taunting. "_I _rather enjoyed her. Perhaps she might indulge me again someday."

Will growled and struck out once with his scythe at the butler's infuriating, perfect face. Knives of silver parried the angry thrust and Sebastian evaded him with ease.

"It would do you well to refrain from speaking of my assistant in that manner," he told the demon. "It would serve you even better to keep away from her entirely, as I stated before. You will sorely regret pursuing her. Grim reapers to not make empty promises."

"And my kind do not give up their prey," the dark man answered with a grin. "You're an intelligent man. Surely, you are aware of what she is? What those beautiful eyes of hers mean?"

The reaper stiffened and his grip on his scythe tightened.

"Of course. It's obvious. It isn't so very remarkable."

"Have you ever seen one of her kind before?" Sebastian gave him a pointed look and William did not answer. "Mmm. I thought not. She is a rare specimen, shinigami. Her soul is..." His eyes burned magenta. "...exquisite. _Utterly_ euphoric. And what she is as well as her innocent nature granted me a taste."

Rage broiled within William once again. He attacked the demon with all the speed and ferocity his birthright had granted to him. He attacked blindly, but Sebastian was as calm as a pond. The demon was smirking again, he had provoked him quite successfully.

Their brief fight took them across the property. Soon, they both ceased their dual; their skills were nearly perfectly matched, there was no progress to be made.

"I wasn't interested in pursuing her before tonight," the butler confessed. "I was intrigued, yes, but she wasn't worth the trouble. Now, I must admit I'm rather thrilled. A chance to devour a soul like hers and thwart you all in one?" A wicked glint shone in his eyes. "I really shouldn't... But I simply cannot resist."

"If you force her to-"

"Force?" Sebastian inquired in surprise. "Oh, no, no. Demons never force people to do anything; that is beyond our power. We merely dress ourselves like a daydream, we are beautiful. We show them everything they've ever wanted. And all of them, the passionate, the lonely, the desperate, the... _Heartbroken_," he accented, "they all run to us. And our arms are open, always waiting." He smiled beautifully. "I won't have to force her. She'll come to me willingly. After all, I am a demon. I know what her kind longs for, I know what they crave, what they pursue. It is my means of survival. In a way, I know her better than you can ever hope to."

"I will say only this," William began, barely keeping his temper. "If you touch her again, I will know. And I promise you, I will send you back to hell where you belong!"

"Then she will be coming with me."

"Heed my warning, demon!" He hissed. Catching a whiff of him again, William put the back of his gloved hand to his nose, shielding it from the noxious fumes. With a digested look, he turned to leave. "I can't imagine why the smell of you didn't repulse her."

"Oh, I think you know why."

William froze in his tracks, but did not dare to turn around.

"I think you know," the smirk could almost be heard in his voice. "How could it? This form is meant to attract humans in every way. She had already succumbed. And she will again."

After a moment, William turned to face Sebastian. But he was already gone.


	20. William Reflects

**(A/N: Another short ****derpy chapter ahead. Sorry it's short, but I'm LITERALLY working on the next one right now. Besides, I think it's actually a bit important, it's a bit of character development for darling Will! Love you all, bye!)**

William's thoughts raced. He knew what game the demon would play. In the end, the girl would be forced to choose between the two of them. As much as he disliked admitting it, the thought terrified him.

They would both strut themselves before her, like lions during mating season, roaring, shaking their manes, and showing what they had to offer. The most worrisome aspect of this was that Sebastian was already the alpha. The demon had kissed her and had shown his charm, while William... Well... William...

What had William done that could compete with that? What could he _do_ that would compete with that beast's allure?

Sebastian was certain to use his talents and beauty to seduce Giana. He'd offer her security, protection, and passion. He'd woo her with his intensity.

But William didn't want to seduce her. He longed for her to... to...

Actually, sometimes he wasn't sure what he longed for. But he supposed he wanted her to be beside him. He wanted to open up to her, to share everything in him with her. He wanted her safety and happiness, he wanted her... to love him.

But what did he have to offer that appeared more appealing than the butler?

Looking in the mirror, he gazed into his vivid green orbs.

Common. Every reaper had the same eyes; everyone excepting Giana that is. His had nothing to hold over the intrigue of Sebastian's ruby irises.

His hair was black. But so was the demon's. As for the style, he was clueless as to how to make it more appealing. His usual rigid side part was professional and it exhausted his knowledge of how to arrange his hair.

He studied his build and his wide shoulders. Then his facial structure.

Sighing, he found that he had no opinion. Judging beauty had never been his strong point. Furthermore, when venturing into the realm of what _other_ people thought was attractive, he was increasingly lost. Appearance-wise, he could only hope that Giana thought him handsome. He certainly thought she was.

However, the two-fold issue of both making his own feelings known as well as protecting Giana from the demon still remained. He would have to find a way to communicate his feelings to her.

Still standing before the mirror, he hung his head. If only he could have free access to his locked, bolted, and frozen-shut heart, maybe then he could make it worthy to share with Giana.


	21. Roses and Unrequited Love

**(So, I got sick again... Lol seriously, I have been sick this year more than any other time in my whole life! Le boo~ But anywhoo, I'm back! Sorry for the wait! You're awesome for sticking with this absurdly irregular story. Let me know if it starts to suck, so I'll be sure to un-suck it! ;) Love ya, bye!)**

The young woman blinked in curiosity as she stood before her cubicle desk. A dozen blood-red roses lay before her, trussed together with a white ribbon. The sight was... new to say the least. Never before had someone given her flowers.

Hoping for the best, she poked her head around the cubicle wall where she was within eye-sight of her father's desk, where the scarlet reaper was snoozing.

"Dad?" No response. "Daddy?"

A snort and a jolt came from the man.

"Wha-?" He yawned. "Did you call me?"

"Did you put this on my desk?"

"Put wha-?" He yawned again, looking completely oblivious, before falling swiftly back to sleep.

The girl quirked her mouth. There was no way that her father had done this. It was too... subtle for him. She turned back to the gorgeous blossoms and picked them up.

_Could it be that they were from Will?_ Her heart raced. _Was he saying that he forgives me?_

"Miss... Giana," came a breathtakingly familiar voice from behind her.

She whirled around, smiling hopefully, to face William. The roses were still clutched tightly in her arms. Something small and white slipped from the bouquet when she turned, but she didn't pay it any mind. Her eyes were locked on Will.

The man stood a few paces in front of her and his eyes widened a bit when she turned and he caught sight of the roses. For an instant, his eyes flickered with a look of hopelessness and then all emotion drained away.

"Good morning," he greeted stiffly, before walking away.

_What?_

Giana was thoroughly confused. Why had he seemed so put off? Her eyes flicked down to the object that had fallen to the floor: a small white card. It must've been tucked inside the bouquet. Retrieving it, she turned it over and saw her name written in beautiful, scrolling letters on the front. Upon opening it, she found the most surprising of messages penned in lovely script.

_Miss Giana Sutcliff,_

_I hope this finds you well. I wish to apologize for my ungentlemanly behavior two nights previous. It haunted me all of yesterday and I fear it will today as well, unless I make things right._

_Please accept these roses as my formal apology. I'm certain they will compliment you beautifully._

_May our paths cross again,_

_Sebastian Michaelis, Head Butler of Phantomhive Manor_

The girl's face was scarlet.

_Sebastian Michaelis? How was it that he knew my work address?!_

Then her thoughts connected. Will.

She turned to look after him and a sad expression rose on her face. He must have assumed-and correctly at that-that the roses were from Sebastian. Instead of proving to him that her exchange with the gorgeous... uh _strange_ man had been a mere unfortunate incident, it would seem that the opposite was being established. She blushed with embarrassment.

Should she speak to him about it?

_No_, she firmly decided. _Not here._

She had learned from her last experience of speaking to him about matters of the heart while in the office. Undoubtedly, he would find her behavior inappropriate... Again. Also, they were just flowers and they were apology ones at that. This would most likely conclude their correspondence, that is, after she replied assuring his forgiveness. She couldn't let the man agonize over what he had done if it was truly haunting him as he had said.

William would soon see that her acquaintance with the butler was superficial and brief, then maybe he would feel as though she was safe to approach. She could only hope that by then he would have the courage to do so.

"I don't believe it," an incredulous voice sounded from behind her. Ronald Knox gaped at the bouquet in the girl's hands. "He actually got you roses?! Like a regular Romeo?! I didn't peg the boss for something so classy and romantic! Shoot! You've really got him now, Giana! Hook, line, and-"

"They're not from him," she silenced him, her cheeks burning.

"Huh? Not from Will?" He cocked his head. A grin grew on his face. "Then who's it from? You stringing together a bunch of admirers or something?"

"No! That's not it at all! This is an apology bouquet. Will saw them and I'm afraid he might've..." Her voice fell short. She didn't know what else to say.

Ron observed his friend's downcast face and stepped forward, lowering his voice.

"Look, Giana, babe," he began in a soft voice. "Do you love William Tyrant Spears?"

Rolling her eyes at the mention of his nickname, she chuckled.

"Ronald..."

"Well, do you?"

There was an unusual degree of seriousness in his eyes and it thoroughly surprised her. Nevertheless, she seriously considered his query. The question, however, was far more easy than the answer.

"How does one know?" She raised heterochromatic eyes to him in supplication.

The blond reaper lent her a small smile and brushed a small lock of her scarlet hair behind her ear in a brotherly fashion. He gazed into her eyes for a moment more before landing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You want to stay close to them," he told her. "You want them to be happy, more than anything. You want them to be the very best that they can be. Most of all, you want to see them smile at you. Yeah, you really want that."

Staring at her friend in awe, she would never have guessed that he was so knowledgable in the ways of love. Now, she reconsidered his first question again.

"So? Do you feel that way about Will?" He asked.

"Yes..." She breathed. "I want him to be so happy. And I... I want him to see himself the way I see him, the way I know he is."

"How's that?"

"A good man."

The shinigami nodded silently, little emotion visible other than pensiveness. Gently, he removed the bouquet from her hands and set it aside.

"Then, don't worry about these. Go talk to him. You'll regret not speaking to him frankly sooner or later."

She shook her head.

"You act as though I could just confess my love to him as if he were like any other man. He's not, Ronald. The man I... The man I love is the most emotionally constipated creature on the face of the earth. If he even feels anything for me, I'm afraid I'll never know it."

"Whatever," the man shrugged, then gave her a smile. "You'll still regret not telling him how you feel."

The girl thought this over for a moment.

"What if he... Rejects me?"

"Then," Ron began, looking gentle, "at least you'll have your answer."

Nodding resignedly, she swallowed.

"That's true," she said slowly. "But I can't do it yet. I can't be distracted by it today, I'll have to do my work first."

"Sure, babe," Ron grinned. "But I'll be checking to make sure you're not trying to escape it." As the girl turned to go back to her desk, the reaper caught her arm and pulled her into his chest for a warm hug. "No matter what happens, you'll still have me and half a dozen other people who care for you. Before you go back to work, could'ya manage a smile?"

Stepping back slightly, she gave him a warm grateful smile.

"Thank you, Ronald. You're the best friend a girl could ask for."

Leaning forward, she planted a soft kiss on his cheek, then turned and walked away. A gloved hand was raised to his face as Ron stared after her. After a moment, he turned away, a slightly poignant smile on his lips.

_Most of all, I really want to see you smile. Yeah, I really want that._


	22. Author is Lazy, William hates author

The branch manager's work had been done for an hour, but still, he remained at the office. It was nearing closing time. Nevertheless, William sat at his desk, despairing. He had very nearly been sick with dread when he had seen those roses in Giana's hands. It had been quite apparent as to who had sent them. So, to quiet his unsettled nerves, he had promptly excused himself from her presence.

Now, he sat at his desk racking his brains for any form of appropriate conventional expressions of affection he might offer the girl. His pen had been still for several minutes now.

_Flowers?_

He had written that one last night and had promptly struck it from the list earlier that day.

_Chocolate?_

Cheap. And he had never seen any sweets included in any of Giana's lunches. Also, according to his research, many women kept a close eye on their weight and tried to limit their intake of chocolate. Seeing as how the red-haired reaper was so lithe in figure, he reasoned that she must do the same. Besides, she might not even care for chocolate.

_No,_ he had decided. _Too much of a risk._

_A letter?_

_What a horrible idea_, he rebuked himself.

A letter would require him to be eloquent, direct, and blatantly honest in describing his feelings for her. For, he wouldn't be able to get away with rambling on about the weather, or inquiring after her health, or any of his other prevarications. What business would he have in writing to her of those things when they worked a mere room away from each other?

No, a letter was beyond his skill set. He was certain that he would be completely clueless as to what commands he should give the pen.

_Dinner?_

Increasingly absurd. That would require him to _speak_ with her, face to face. Although, he supposed that he wouldn't have to speak with her about his _feelings, _the situation would still be intolerably awkward. In fact, any romantic setting with William in attendance would be intolerably awkward.

His list was exhausted and his resolve wavered. The thought of surrender and despair flashed in his mind for a moment, but he pushed it away. He would not abandon Giana to the likes of Sebastian Michaelis.

Yet, the problem still remained.

_Damn Sebastian and his charm!_

The words of that demon echoed in his mind like both a dire threat and a haunting promise:

"_She'll come to me willingly. After all, I am a demon. I know what her kind longs for, I know what they crave, what they pursue... In a way, I know her better than you can ever hope to_."

_Perhaps he had been right_, he thought bitterly. _But I care for her far more than that beast could._


	23. Crows Weave Webs Too

**(So, I'm back! Here's a long and proper chapter for you! Things are about to really progress! I hope you all enjoy and thank you all so much for the new love and attention this little story of mine has been getting recently! You're all gorgeous! Bye!)**

An odd air of dread rose within Giana as she climbed the manor steps later that night. It was just after sundown and she had finished her work early with the sole purpose of coming here.

So why did she feel so nervous?

She stopped in front of the great wooden door and stared at it. All she had to do was slide the envelope through the slot, then leave. No one need ever know she had come. Her spirits brightened a bit at this.

Extending the envelope forward towards the letter slot, she leaned forward to put it in. Only, a moment later, it began to swing away from her, urging her to take a step forward. She registered what was happening in a panic just an instant before her eyes darted upwards.

The handsome butler of the Phantomhive manor stood there in all his glory, a candlestick in his hand and a rather surprised expression in his eyes.

_Sweet death_, she moaned internally. _Why?_

_"_Miss Sutcliff," he addressed her, his expression relaxing into a disarming smile. "What a pleasant surprise. Though it's a bit past visiting hours, it's a pleasure all the same." His smile slid smoothly into a smirk.

"Er... Mr. Sebastian Michaelis," she greeted, keeping her eyes downcast in embarrassment. "Well, I wasn't planning on visiting." She extended the letter out to him. "I merely came with my reply to the... Er... Message you sent to me."

"Ah, I see," he stated, his eyes lighting up. "I do hope the roses were to your satisfaction."

She flushed a pretty shade of pink.

"They were lovely," she spoke softly. "Though a bit unnecessary..."

"I thought they were quite necessary," he gathered her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, "miss."

There was a brief moment of dazed staring for Giana and, just for an instant, she felt that slight buzzing sensation in her skull as she had the first night she had met him.

_He still smelled like roses._

"Sebastian?" Came a boy's voice from behind the butler. "Who's at the door?"

"Ah, my lord," the handsome devil addressed, releasing the girl's hand and stepping back from the doorway. "This young woman has come to call."

"I only wanted to deliver this letter!" She stated, exasperated.

"You..." The young boy breathed, stepping into view. "You were the mystery maid at my party the other night."

"Your party?" She inquired, looking the boy over from his eyepatch to his small-shoed feet.

"Giana, might I present Earl Ciel Phantomhive, head of the Phantomhive estate and my young master," Sebastian introduced.

"Earl Ciel Phantomhive?" Her eyes widened in surprise. The boy was so young! But it didn't matter. Putting on an attractive and kind smile, the red-haired reaper dipped into a graceful curtsy. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord."

Both males were quite pleased with her well-trained respect, though, perhaps Sebastian a bit more than his young master.

"Yes, well, there's no need for you to introduce yourself," Ciel stated, smirking. "Sebastian already told me about you. Though, I must admit, I didn't expect a grim reaper to knock on my door today."

Eyes wide, the girl looked to Sebastian, incredulous at the fact that he had informed the child of her occupation. The butler flashed her a soothing smile.

"It's quite alright, miss," the man assured her. "My master has already had several chance encounters with reapers. He is quite accustomed to the idea."

The girl nodded, cautiously accepting her situation.

"I see."

A momentary silence passed over the threesome and Ciel took a moment to observe his butler. Sebastian's wine-colored eyes were locked onto the girl with an odd, hidden type of hunger. It was barely visible, but the young earl had long since learned how to detect such changes in his butler's mood. His curiosity was piqued.

"Why don't we continue this conversation in the sitting room?" The boy suggested. "Please, Miss Sutcliff, come in."

"Oh, no, no, no," she shook her head. "I couldn't. I told you, I've only come here to-"

"I insist."

"But I-"

"Please, miss," Sebastian encouraged, laying a smoldering gaze on her. "My master _insists_."

_Damn him and his beckoning eyes!_

"A-Alright," she sighed. "Just for a moment, I suppose."

When she entered the manor and the door closed behind her with a resounding _boom_, she found herself extremely nervous. There was something about these two-Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian Michaelis-that gave the impression that they knew some tremendous secret, something that gave them the upper hand and caused them to smirk about it.

After entering the sitting room, Sebastian stripped her of her coat, then left to prepare some tea. She was left all alone with the eye-patched boy.

He was a very handsome child, well-dressed and stately. His bearing was proud and similar to that of someone thrice his age and stature. But his exposed blue eye held so much hurt and damage. Perhaps it was the reaper blood within her, adept at judging someone's character in an instant, but she knew that this boy had been through hell and back. And she wondered what could have happened to leave him so broken, cold, and deprived of his childhood.

"Well, miss," he began in his proud voice. "I must say, I'm surprised that you're the child of Grell Sutcliff."

She grimaced. Once again, her father's reputation had preceded her.

"Everyone always is," she told him. "But he _is_ my father..."

The word _unfortunately_ died on her lips. She knew that she would've regretted saying it.

"How is it that you differ so greatly from him, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I only met him for the first time last year, my lord."

"Oh?"

"Yes, you see, my mother's dying wish was for me to find my father and learn my heritage. I spent many months searching for him. Imagine _my_ surprise when I met him!"

"I can _only_ imagine," he stated drolly. After a moment, another smirk rose to his face and he regarded her with amusement. "So, you became a reaper then?" She nodded. "And how do you like swinging a sickle about and sending us humans to our final judgements?"

She shrugged, a mild tone in her voice.

"I like it as well as I like any duty I must perform. I wouldn't say that I _enjoy_ it, necessarily, but I _do_ take pride in it." A teasing smile was returned to him as she continued, "And as for the image of a reaper with a sickle, that's a very common misconception. Very few actually choose to wield one as their death scythes."

Sebastian reentered just then, an exquisite tea-set in hand. He poured tea for the two seated people, then took his place at his master's side.

"While on the topic of death scythes," the boy continued, sipping his tea. "I take it you have yours with you?"

Giana's hand unconsciously went to the hilt hidden within the folds of her skirt.

"Always, my lord."

"Might I see it?"

There was a pause.

"No, I'm afraid not."

His gaze turned sharp and displeased.

"What? Why not?"

"While I respect you and can see that you're quite mature for your age, I simply cannot hand over my scythe to human child." She explained quite simply.

"I assure you, I am perfectly capable of wielding a weapon, Miss Sutcliff," his young brow was crinkling with irritation.

"I'm sure you are, but my answer is still the same. I cannot." She observed the boy, who now looked very much his age as he sat crossly, not being given what he wanted. Another teasing smile rose to her lips. "In all practicality, my scythe-a katana-is almost as long as you are tall. We wouldn't want you accidentally reaping your own soul or that of Sebastian's, would we?"

The butler raised a gloved hand to his lips and disguised his chuckle with a cough.

Ciel looked positively affronted.

"Tch," he scoffed. Rising to his feet, his teacup in hand. "Very well. Sebastian?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"I grow weary," he stated. "I will return to my study. Feel free to entertain our guest and see her out once she's had her fill of tea."

"Yes, my lord," the butler answered, a hand over his heart.

Then the boy left the room without so much as a "goodnight", closing the door behind him.

"I think I've made him upset," Giana stated sadly. "Be sure to give my apologies later if you would, Sebastian. I meant no harm."

The man chuckled.

"And indeed, no harm was done," he stated. "In fact, I daresay that it did more good than anything else for his pride."

Giana flicked her eyes away from his intense stare after a moment of silence.

"I'll only stay long enough to finish my tea, then I'll go," she told him, blushing.

"But of course," he assured her maneuvering to the couch where she sat. He seated himself beside her. "I wouldn't dream of detaining you any longer than you would wish. But if you don't mind, my dear," he began, preparing a cup for himself, "I'll join you in the partaking of tea."

"Why would I mind?" She muttered, still looking away.

Another moment of silence ensued as they both sipped their warm drinks. The girl's eyes remained on the amber liquid in her cup on her lap, yet she could feel the butler's eyes watching her dutifully.

"If you'll pardon me for saying, you look quite ravishing this evening," he purred.

Her breath caught in her chest.

_Was it possible die from blushing? _Her face was beginning to hurt.

"Mr. Michaelis..."

A warm, debonair chuckle rippled from his lips.

"Please, Giana. After our initial encounter, I'd say we've reached a first name basis," he stated. "Anything more formal than that sounds... pretentious."

She had no idea as to what she should say to him. Sitting in a parlor, drinking tea, and being charmed had not been part of her plan in coming here. Her thoughts flashed back to William and how angry he had been when he had figured out that she had spent time with the man next to her now.

Oh, she hoped to never see Will that way ever again.

Quickly, in a rather unladylike fashion, she downed the contents of her teacup and rose from her seat.

"I've finished my tea, and I must be going now, Sebastian," she stated, not even looking at him. She went for the door. "I apologize for intruding on your evening routine."

_Curses!_ He had come on too strongly.

"Giana, Miss Sutcliff! Wait a moment." He followed her, closing a gentle, gloved hand around her wrist. He easily slid on a mask of regret, humility, and worry. "Please, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable and I will not keep you from leaving, but, please, tell me... Are you angry with me?"

Her blue and green eyes blinked up at him surprise.

"Angry with you?"

"Yes, because of the way I robbed you of your first kiss. Tell me truthfully," he begged. "Are you angry with me? I've agonized over it for the past few days. Please say you aren't!"

The usually jaunty man was now so pitifully repentant before her, it made her head spin. She didn't understand him at all. But it twisted her heart to leave a man to agonize over something she could resolve.

Glancing down at the envelope still in her hand, she sighed before walking over to the tame fire in the fireplace and tossing it in. It seemed that it would now be necessary to _tell_ him what she was going to communicate through her letter.

"No, Sebastian." She assured him. "Of course I'm not angry with you."

"Then why walk away?"

She bit her lip. Telling him about William was pointless.

"Please, just don't fret over it anymore. I've hardly even given that night any thought," she lied quite blatantly.

"Oh, well, I'm quite relieved that you weren't too terribly offended, however," he faltered, a small grin appearing in the corner of his mouth, "if you haven't given it much thought, I suppose I am not as skilled in the act as I previously thought."

"Sebastian!" She blushed crossly.

"It rather offends my pride as a man."

His tone was so mournful, so crestfallen, that Giana was almost startled.

"No, it has nothing to do with that. You are very sk..." She stuttered. "That is... It was quite..." She blushed like mad. Sebastian was looking at her expectantly. Gritting her teeth, she blurted, "I enjoyed it very much."

_Oh, death gods... Did I really just say that out loud?_

He smirked.

"N-N-Not that I have anything to compare it to," she supplemented hastily, gazing into the fire.

"I see," he mused. His tone became much softer and he crossed over to the couch once more, sitting down. Refilling her teacup, he extended it out to her beseechingly. "In that case, for my own selfish sake, Miss Sutcliff, can we start over? Speak to each other as two civilized strangers? I'd like to make things right."

Gently, the girl blushed once more. Then she submitted and joined him on the couch, beginning again on her tea.

"Well then, Miss Sutcliff," the handsome man began. "Tell me something about yourself."

"What do you wish to know?"

"Who was your mother? For, I assume she has passed on?"

That question startled her and she looked at him abruptly.

"Why would you want to know something like that? And how did you know?" She inquired.

His blood-red eyes offered solace.

"I assumed that her passing would be the only reason you might have for seeking out your father. And as for why, I wonder what kind of a woman she must have been to raise such a capable daughter," he explained. "You needn't tell me if you do not wish to."

"No, it's alright," she allowed, "It's been more than a year since I've talked about her. And I think it's over-due. My mother was an extraordinary woman. She could sing, dance, and play a variety of instruments all very well, yet she never did it for anyone to see or hear but me. She was so very kind, yet she was not soft or weak. In fact, she was the strongest woman I've ever known."

_Interesting_, Sebastian mused, taking in the information. _Very interesting indeed._

"You must've loved her very much," he stated softly.

"As any daughter _should_ love their mother." Her eyes misted slightly as she began to recall memories she had thought long-forgotten. "Every year on my birthday, she would wake early, weave a crown of flowers for me, and bake a batch of gingerbread men. She knew how much I enjoyed them. Then on Christmas, she would always sing _O Holy Night_ until I fell asleep..." She wiped her eyes. "Silly memories, I suppose."

"No, not at all. Moments are fleeting, but memories can keep them alive for decades to come," he told her.

This earned him a grateful smile from the girl.

"She had the most lovely voice, unlike anything I have ever heard. I'm afraid I didn't inherit it," she chuckled sadly. "It's one of the things I miss most."

"How did she die?"

The girl faltered and suddenly grew a bit pale.

"I... I don't know..."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at this.

"How can that be?"

"I simply know what I found... And what I found..." She shuddered.

He interpreted the meaning of her silence.

"I take it she did not die from natural causes or illness?"

Again, Giana trembled and wrapped her arms around herself.

"I cannot say," she whispered. "She wouldn't tell me."

This surprised him.

"She was still alive when you found her?"

"Barely." Tears began to appear in her eyes. "All she could say was for me to find my father, Grell Sutcliff, and to join him at the Shinigami Dispatch. I didn't understand anything at the time, and I still don't understand _everything_... Why wouldn't she tell me what had happened to her? Why the house had been torn apart? Why she was..." Silence fell.

There was no sniffling, no sobbing. Giana merely stared into the firelight, her eyes haunted and silent tears running down her face.

The butler observed her closely, keeping a grin at bay. He had_ tasted_ all of her pain and hidden torment the night he had tasted her soul... Her lips. This incident with her dead mother must've been the source. It had formed her soul into something... Succulent.

Maintaining his somber mask, he extracted a handkerchief and turned her face towards him. With a tut, he began to wipe her cheeks.

"How foolish of me," he berated himself. "Forgive me, Giana. I did not mean to force you to relive such painful memories. I seem to be positively dismal at having a normal conversation with a woman without disrupting their peace."

A flicker of a smile came to her lips as she stilled his hand.

"Don't be, Sebastian, please," she begged. "True, it is a painful memory, but you've forced me to face it after nearly a year of struggling to bury it. That wasn't right of me. Just because a memory is painful, doesn't mean it shouldn't be remembered." She gave him a true smile. "You're the first person I've spoken to this about."

"You never even spoke to your father about it?" He wondered.

"No, and you know very well the reasons why."

This time the grin showed slightly.

"Sometimes," she went on. "When I reap souls, the state they're in when I find them remind me so much of my mother's death."

"Oh, Giana, why torture yourself so?" He asked, genuinely puzzled.

"_Someone_ must tend to the dead and the dying. I am honored to receive that responsibility."

"But however do you manage? Surely, such a task would weigh on a woman with such a gentle nature."

With a slight blush, she shrugged and averted her eyes once more.

"I go home, make a cup of tea for myself, and cope. What else can an Englishwoman do?" She chuckled lightly.

Suddenly, desperately, Sebastian gathered her in his arms, holding her to his broad chest. She was a bit startled, but found herself quickly giving into his comforting embrace. One of his hands cupped the back of her head and his other rested on her back.

"Oh, Giana," he whispered in her ear, willing his voice to ring with sympathy and sorrow. "What a remarkable soul you are. Never in my life have I met such a strong woman." His voice lowered to what could've been considered a husky whisper. "If ever you need support, or help, don't hesitate to contact me. You've been alone long enough."

She buried her face into his shoulder and felt like weeping again.

"Thank you, Sebastian."

As she gripped his shirt, she did not see that the man's eyes were glowing magenta, nor did she see the triumphant grin on his handsome face.

_William T. Spears would lose... Oh, how he would lose..._


	24. What a Feast She would Make

"So, _that_ was the child of that idiotic reaper," Ciel mused blandly as Sebastian's nimble fingers climbed up his buttons, dressing him for bed.

"Indeed, my lord," the demon affirmed, keeping a small grin to himself.

"I didn't like her," the boy stated grouchily.

The butler chuckled at this and gazed down at his master with a teasing smile, holding a finger daintily below his lip.

"That's only because she refused to give you what you wanted, my lord."

"No," the lad disagreed testily, ripping off his eyepatch and flinging it to the bedside table. "It's because she treated me like a child!"

Again, the demon rumbled with amusement.

"You _are_ a child, my lord."

"I'm an earl!"

"And also a child."

Ciel Phantomhive seated himself on the edge of his bed and sullenly looked into the darkness of the corners of the room, where the candlelight could not reach. His opinion was still the same: he had not liked the girl. She had been disrespectful, mocking, and belittling, all traits which he despised.

"Sulking does not suit you, young master," Sebastian informed him, still smirking as he folded the boy's clothes. "Besides, she told me to apologize to you for her actions. She was concerned that she might've upset you and informed me that she had meant no harm. You ought to forgive her and do away with your brooding."

"Hmph."

Obstinately, he shunned the suggestion from his thoughts and continued to mope, dignifiedly. After several moments, however, his midnight blue and violet eyes locked onto the dark shape of his butler, currently drawing the curtains at the room's window. His eyes squinted in curiosity. The demon, while still behaving normally, exuded a distinct, foreign mood of eagerness and satisfaction. Ciel recalled the way he had stared at the young woman earlier that day.

"I saw you earlier, Sebastian."

"My lord?" The demon turned to face him, his head tilting slightly in confusion.

"The way you looked at the girl," the boy continued. "You looked... Hungry. And you spoke with her instead of allowing her to simply deliver her letter and leave." Sebastian took several steps forward, until he was just in front of the bed. "What are your plans for her?"

A wicked, almost chilling grin spread across the butler's features. He tilted his dark-haired head again and held a finger to his lips, a cunning gleam in his eyes.

"My lord, you should know by now what my kind desires above all else," he admonished.

The master's eyes narrowed and his youthful voice hardened.

"So you want her soul," he stated. "Getting impatient for a meal are we? Don't you need my permission to form another contract?" His eyes flashed. "Such brash actions... It's rather unlike you, Sebastian."

The demon chuckled.

"Oh, no, young master," he told him, shaking his head of feathery black locks. "You see, contracts are meant to be formed between humans and demons only. Giana Sutcliff is not human."

"Oh, that's right." The boy's eyes widened in realization. "She's a reaper... But do they even have consumable souls?"

"Technically, yes, though most demons find them repulsive to the taste," Sebastian explained. "It depends upon how long the reaper has been alive. Over the centuries, their souls become increasingly saturated with the taste of the deaths of those they reap. The longer they reap souls, the more muddied their soul becomes."

"But _she's_ only just become a reaper," Ciel pieced together.

"Precisely, her reaper's soul is somewhat fresh. That alone gives it a tolerable flavor..." The butler grinned. "But that's not all."

Ciel gazed at the demon curiously. He wasn't certain he had ever seen him so manic over something.

"She is not entirely a reaper." As Sebastian walked him through his discoveries, the boy leaned forward in interest. "Her mother was something ancient, something secret... Something exquisite. Yet, Giana was raised as a human, so there are traces of a human life there as well." The man sighed. "Reaper. Ancient. And human. Three savors of souls all in one lovely, lithe body. Truly, she will be a feast to remember."

The boy stared, some strange form of jealousy stirring within him.

_Could his own soul simply not compare? _

He shook his head free of such foolish thoughts. Sebastian was bound to him and could not depart until he had fulfilled Ciel's wishes.

"And how will you convince her to part with such a soul if you cannot form a contract with her?" The earl retorted saucily.

The demon's eyes flared scarlet and he bared a sharp-fanged grin.

"I will make her fall in love with me, of course, young master."

"Hmph." The boy scoffed. "And what? Will I simply sit here, waiting for you to be finished with her?"

The beast gave a chuckle.

"No, my lord. I promise you, I shall not forget my duties as your butler in this venture of mine." He smirked. "After all, if I couldn't do that much, what kind of a butler would I be?"

"Very well, you have my permission to pursue her. I'm interested as to how this will turn out." There was a brief pause. "Though I'm curious, what exactly _was_ Miss Sutcliff's mother?"

A brief silence ensued as the butler took up the candelabrum from his master's bedside table. The butler's countenance was more normal now, though he still smirked ever so slightly.

"Now, now, young master," he hushed. "I believe that's quite enough excitement tonight. Go to sleep. I shall see you in the morning."

Then he exited the room, taking the light with him. The candles were extinguished as he slipped into the dark recesses of the manor, blatantly ignoring the angry calls of his contract holder, demanding he return to the room and answer him.

Now that Sebastian had uncovered Giana's heritage, he planned on keeping it all to himself.


	25. The Beast's Promise

(**I'm sorry it's been so long, guys! Work has been crazy! :P I've barely had a moment to call my own. But hey, at least this chapter's done! It's been a while in coming, so I apologize for the wait, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Have a Happy Thanksgiving!)**

The branch manager cringed subtly at the scent that filled his office once again. Giana stood before his desk, an innocent facade barely masking her underlying concern.

_She had every right to be concerned! _He thought crossly. _A demon was hunting her!_

The scent of the demon was strong on her skin and in her hair once again. He could hardly stand it. He was thoroughly torn between being angry with her, worried for her, and terrified that he would lose her.

It was only after the flame-haired girl cleared her throat softly that he remembered she was waiting for him to give her some case files for her to complete. Raising his raven head from his own papers he had been pretending to tend to ever since she had entered his office, he rose and collected her files from the cabinet.

He crossed over to her and extended them out to her.

"Thank you, William," she mumbled softly and stretched out her hand to receive them.

But the handsome man did not let go. His stunning green eyes bored into hers.

He was visibly struggling with biting back his words and nervousness flooded the girl at the thought of what those words might be. She would find out a moment later.

"Why do you continue to visit that... Butler?" He asked, the pause before the last word barely noticeable.

Her lovely eyes widened in shock.

"W-William, have you been spying on me?"

"No," he answered quickly.

"Then how did you know I had gone to see him?"

"Please, answer my question, Miss Sutcliff," he dodged smoothly.

"No, answer mine first!" She demanded, tugging the files back towards her.

"I believe I asked you first," he stated, pulling the files back in turn.

"Stop dodging _my _question! You're acting like a child!"

"And you're as stubborn and clueless as one!" He burst, shocking her into silence.

Though she had seen him become somewhat ruffled, she had never seen Will lose his temper before. She stared at him, uncertain as to how she should respond.

"Wh-What's _that_ supposed to mean?" She asked crossly.

William closed his eyes and breathed deeply, clearly trying to regain his composure. After several moments, it became clear that Giana wouldn't receive an answer from him without pressing for one.

"William, what's gotten into you?!" She exclaimed. "Why are monitoring my every move? Why do you care whether I see Sebastian or not? Why are you calling me _Miss Sutcliff_?"

"I... I just think you should reconsider how much time you spend with that man... Giana," he told her.

"Why do you care?" She demanded, just wanting to hear his answer.

"Giana, please..."

"No, really, Will. Why do you care? Just say it!"

"Giana..."

The girl gave a growl and tore the files out of his hands entirely.

"For _death's_ _sake_, William! If you're jealous, just say so!" She shouted.

The man fell silent. He was shocked.

Jealousy had never even occurred to him. He had been too concerned with her well-being to be jealous of that damned butler. With distaste, he stepped back from her. He felt anger brew within him and he wasn't sure why.

"I'm not _jealous_, Giana," he stated sharply, stepping close to her. "I'm _concerned_. Forgive me if it's a disappointment to you, but _someone_ has to look out for you since your fool of a father doesn't even know to ensure the safety of his own daughter!" His eyebrows pinched together slightly and he resisted the urge to rest a gloved hand on her precious cheek. "Don't act blindly, Giana. Be _mindful_. Please."

Pulling on his overcoat and gathering up his death scythe, he strode past her and opened his office door and strode out, leaving the girl gaping in confusion.

He was leaving for the day. Usually, he would stay and begin on his work for tomorrow, but he needed a respite. He had much to think about.

Initially, he had headed for home, but his feet and his thoughts had become lost along the way. Soon, he found himself wandering through London, mulling over Giana's situation. At some point, he had ceased to see this messy triangle as _his_ problem and had recognized it as Giana's.

In the back of his mind, he recognized the fact that he was harboring feelings for her, but the situation was quickly becoming more dire. Sebastian was manipulating the girl as easily as a plaything and Will was anxious over whether or not she would ultimately fall prey to his advances.

Therefore, it seemed ultimately petty and utterly ridiculous to worry about something so trivial as winning her heart when her life and soul was at stake. Romance quickly became secondary and Giana's wellbeing took priority.

The reaper stopped in the empty street, bathed in twilight. A stunningly obvious realization occurred to him. Giana had no idea as to what Sebastian truly was. If he told her that the man was a _demonic spirit_ then surely she would begin to see right through him. At the very least, she might know to stay away from him. She might be safe.

"Well, well, well," a hatefully smooth voice sounded from behind the reaper, whose eyes hardened and narrowed. "What a coincidence encountering you here, William T. Spears."

The man turned to see the selfsame butler he had just spoken to Giana about. Venom laced his remotely civil tone.

"Mr. Michaelis," he acknowledged. His grip on his scythe tightened.

"What brings you to such a squalid part of London, reaper?" The demon eyed the man's scythe. "Out on a soul collection case? I thought you only tended to paperwork," he stated with a smirk.

"I warned you to stay away from her," Will told him, ignoring his last remark.

An insufferably melodious laugh rippled from the beast's lips; he was truly amused.

"Oh, I did," he answered. "But then, the little bird flew to _me_." He chuckled again. "Didn't I tell you she would? Already, she subconsciously knows who owns her."

Will lashed out with his scythe, but the agile butler nimbly evaded.

"You mongrel," the reaper hissed. "You do not own her! She would never allow herself to be a slave to anyone, let alone someone like you!"

"Perhaps not," Sebastian shrugged, then an odious grin spread across his features. "But out of the two of us, who has given her roses? Who has held her close and wiped away her tears of grief? Who has already tasted her lips, hmm?" The demon knew just how furious he was making the reaper. "You know... No... _She_ knows it is I. You're losing, reaper. And soon you will lose her too. She is practically mine."

A strange wave of calm washed over Will as he stared into the butler's handsome, wild ruby eyes and a smirk rose on his lips.

"She won't chose you," Will stated certainly. "I'll see to that."

It wasn't his words, but his change in attitude that caught Sebastian off guard. Though, it didn't take long for him to work out what William planned to do. The butler chuckled.

"So, you think you've found your winning hand, eh, William? You think that you've found the solution?" He laughed wickedly and his eyes flashed. "Do you honestly think that informing Giana," the sultry way her name rolled off his tongue was vile, "as to what I am will keep her safe?"

There was an extremely uncomfortable silence as William anxiously awaited the rest of what Sebastian had to say. His confidence was wavering. The demon prowled around the reaper until he was directly behind him. Will's grip on his scythe automatically tightened defensively. He was entirely prepared to stab the demon in his face if he needed to.

Leaning over his shoulder, Sebastian hissed in his ear.

"Well, I suppose that _is_ the only way you'll ever win her," he spat. "The only time any woman would find you preferable would be if your rival was a demon from hell." His soft chuckle was cruel. "You're pathetic."

William was trembling with fury and shame now.

"I don't care..." He whispered.

"Oh really? Ha... And if you're only concerned about her safety, I can make you a promise," he began gravely. "William, if you ruin our little game by giving Giana any unnecessary information... _I will take her by force_."

The reaper froze in shock and a horrid cold feeling of nausea swept through him.

"You said that demons never _force_ people to do anything," he reminded him.

"That was when I thought she was half human," Sebastian stated slyly. "But it would seem I was wrong."

"She's not half human?"

"No, though she _is_ only half reaper," he responded cryptically, refusing to reveal anymore. "And those aforementioned 'courteous guidelines' only apply to those who are human and those possessing a mortal soul." Suddenly, a silver knife was at the reaper's throat and Sebastian's voice was directly against his ear. "I assure you, if you tell her a thing, I _will_ take her. Be it her soul or her body, I _will_ take her from you. And when I do, I will explain _everything_ to her, including how you turned her over to me to save yourself. She will die thinking you were the cause. This is my promise."


	26. Dirty Limericks and a Faithful Informant

In the dead of night, London itself watched as a cloaked figure silently slid down the cobblestone streets. The shape moved with sure, precise movements, headed for a specific and-given the time of night as well as their stealth-clandestine location. For a time, they kept to the waterside sidewalk before crossing over to an inner road and approaching a squat building.

Giving a few quiet raps on the wooden door, the figure waited, midnight dew beading on the brim of his top hat. After several moments, there was no response and the person discretely tried the handle. It surrendered with little more than a dull creak. It hadn't even been locked.

The cloaked being stepped inside and gently closed the door after him. Now safe from the eyes of London, he removed his hat.

"Undertaker," he called out in a smooth, confident tone. "Undertaker, I know you're here."

Immediately after, there came a soft clatter from the back room quickly followed by another sound.

"Ihihihi," came an unnatural chuckle, high in pitch and giddy in nature. "Well, well, well, now. This _is_ a surprise."

The figure of a man emerged from the back room, his dark robes and long wisps of silver hair flowing with each movement. He lifted a long-nailed finger up to his lip in a patronizing gesture.

"To what do I owe the honor of a visit from you, Phantomhive butler?" The Undertaker inquired. "Perhaps you're here to at last choose a coffin for yourself, eh?"

Sebastian stepped forward into the dimly lit room and smirked at the odd man.

"Or perhaps I'm here to acquire what I most commonly come here to seek," he responded pointedly. His expression fell grave. "I need some answers."

"Ah~," nodded the silver haired man. "Just as I suspected... You know, it's really a shame that no one ever comes here just to visit me. I don't understand why. I make perfectly fine company!" He gestured around him to the coffins, empty and occupied alike.

"Perhaps your parlor is a bit grim for most visitors' tastes," the demon suggested humorously.

"You could be right," the odd man mused, considering Sebastian's words before moving on. "Now, ask away! What information do you seek?"

"I have a few questions concerning a rather intriguing young woman."

"A woman?" The Undertaker's face fell to confusion and disappointment. "What are you doing here asking about some woman? Unless she's dead, I've likely not seen hide nor hair of her."

"This particular young woman is a proud member of your species and goes by the name of Giana Sutcliff," he answered.

"Sutcliff? Ah, yes. I know about her." The retired grim reaper was nodding slowly. "Bit of a shock for the reaping community when we found out Grell had a child." Here he paused, a grin on his face. Just when Sebastian had opened his mouth to speak again, however, Undertaker stopped him, his expression eager. "Ah! I now know what the nature of your question is, but first things first," he took several steps froward and giggled. "I want my payment in advance if you please, dear butler."

Sebastian breathed a sigh.

"Very well."

Assuming a theatrical stance, he poised himself to deliver his payment, hoping that it would suffice and he would be able to avoid the embarrassment of reciting again. And so, he began,

"There once was a maiden from Thrass

Who possessed a fine young ass

It was not pretty and pink as one might think

But was grey, had long ears, and ate grass."

Abruptly, the dingy building rang with the uncontrollable laughter of the crazed Undertaker. Sebastian sighed.

"Your humor is so very vulgar," he murmured.

"Ahihihihihihi!" He continued laughing. "That was brilliant! My thanks, butler."

"Now, pray tell me what you know, Undertaker," Sebastian demanded.

"Ah, yes. Of course, Miss Giana Sutcliff. What exactly is it that you wish to know?"

"You have been alive for centuries, have you not?"

The silver-haired reaper cast him a sideways glance through his thick locks.

"I have, but so have you. What would information would I have which managed to evade you?"

"Well, we haven't exactly travelled in the same circles," the demon stated with a smirk. "The information I seek concerns this certain lady reaper's lineage. I... Have it on good authority that she is not merely a reaper."

"And how came you by this information?" Undertaker questioned slyly.

"It suffices to say that the good lady supplied it herself," he answered elusively, before flashing a deathly grin. "It would be... Ungentlemanly of me to elaborate."

"Ah, so you're a gentleman now, eh?" The dark reaper grinned widely. "Ihihihihi! I didn't expect _two_ jokes in one night, butler!"

"As a butler, I have always been a gentleman, before then even. I am nothing if not polite."

"Very well," Undertaker brushed aside the other man's comment uncaringly. "Now, what about her lineage do you want to know? And why do you think I might have the answers you seek?"

"I wish to discover what she is other than a reaper. I wish to know what her mother was."

"Ah, ah, ah! You didn't answer my second question," he sang. "What makes you think that I will be able to help you?

Sebastian scoffed.

"Other than the fact that I've already given you payment, I happen to know that you have access to the Death archives."

"So?"

"Giana's mother is dead," he stated significantly. "Can you help me?"

The Undertaker seemed to contemplate this for a moment before humming in resignation.

"I will need her mother's full name," he stated. "Then, yes. I will be able to help you." Without a word, Sebastian nodded and turned towards the door, presumably to go collect the information he needed. "Oh, and Sebastian," he began, his typical edge of instability returning to his voice. "You'd better bring more limericks when next we meet. I suspect that this task will not be as simple as you hope."


End file.
